Hunter Of The Shadows book 2: Hunter Rising
by skag trendy
Summary: FOR DARKSUPERNATURAL on her special day. The long awaited sequel. All that matters is friends and family, but sometimes the past will have its say, and the rising of a new kind of hunter doesn't help matters.
1. Chapter 1

**Hunter Of The Shadows, Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising**

**Happy birthday to Darksupernatural!**

**Let the Winchester werewolf adventures continue...**

_**Finally, it's here! I hear you exclaim. **_

_**Warnings: The usual – bad language, blood, general goriness and my OC is as smug as ever. Suggestion of nudity but NO Wincest or Slash, as Dean explains in due course. Not that I hold any prejudice, it just doesn't happen in this fic.**_

_**Also please note: Season one and two spoilers, though it doesn't follow the exact same sequence of events and the circumstances have been completely altered.**_

_**So, have I covered everything? I think so.**_

_***takes deep breath***_

_**Plenty of Limp Sam, with protective Dean and Tobius.**_

_**With awesome Bobby and Pastor Jim, by popular demand, and I just love them.**_

_**Many many thanks go out to Phx and Devon99 for the beta and all their help and advice.**_

**_Apologies for the formatting. Fan fiction dot net are being arseholes as usual._**

**Chapter 1**

_**Now…**_

_**Click.**_

**The picture is wobbly as the camera is moved clumsily into place. **

**Various images appear briefly before it settles down: a brightly coloured and flowery blanket, a lumpy mattress, but most disturbing of all is the pain wracked face of Sam Winchester, blood smeared up his neck and crusted in his hair.**

**Presumably the camera is moved to a nightstand, because the audience can no longer see the occupant of the bed, but an extremely worried looking Tobius Le Salle sits beside it.**

**Soft panting and whimpers can be heard every now and then, along with wet choking sounds and rasping coughs. A shaky hand comes up to grip desperately at his grandfather's flannel shirt.**

**Tobius gently grasps the flailing hand, pressing a small kiss to the bloodstained flesh, tries to smile and croons reassuringly, though the look in his eye suggests he is anything but reassured.**

**Dean's worried, **_**tragic**_** face appears over Tobius' shoulder.**

"**How's it goin'? Is he…?"**

**The older werewolf sighs tiredly and his shrug is a little despondent.**

"**I just don't know," Tobius replies, quietly. "He's very badly hurt, Dean. I've done all I can for him. Now we play the waiting game."**

**He raises his hand and the camera gets a flash of a white cloth, stained dark red with blood, before it's thrown aside.**

**The two werewolves appear helpless, scared and heartbroken.**

**Dean's blinking back tears, and reaches out to his son when he whimpers again.**

"_**D-Dean…"**_

"**I'm here Sammy," the **_**fatherbrother**_** replies softly. "I'll always be here. Not leaving without you…"**

_**Then…**_

_Hey Sammy?_

_Yuh?_

_Great idea coming here…_

_I-I guess… _he still sounded a little sulky, but at least he was talking to me. Finally.

_Aw c'mon. We needed the break. __**You**__ needed the break._

Sam sat up, accompanied by a rattle of metal, and huffed through his snout.

_Yeah, but was it really necessary to chain me up? Dude! It's so degrading._ He raised a large paw forlornly to indicate the heavy iron manacle. A thick iron chain kept Sam securely tethered to a large tree

I fixed him with a long, hard stare.

_Let's see. First time you took off, you got in a fight with a grey wolf pack._

Sam dipped his head, growling petulantly. _Wasn't my fault…_

_THEN,_ I continued, still glaring at him, _you nearly get caught by Animal Control._

Sam whined softly, and pulled at his chain. _How did I know someone was gonna call the pound?_

I couldn't believe this kid! For all his smarts and genius IQ, his recent display of stupidity was baffling.

_Count yourself lucky I only stopped at your paw! Tobius was all for putting a collar on you, and I can't say I blame him! _I growled angrily, snorting and tossing my thick mane. With only six months off from my quarter century, I was growing taller, more muscular, coat thickening as my prime approached; Sam might be taller than me in human form, but as a wolf, I was gonna be fucking _huge!_ I felt sure Sire was planning some kind of celebration but he wouldn't talk; guy sure liked his secrets.

But I was _digressing_, and the pup needed his ass _kicked_.

_Sam, we're supposed to be a pack, right? A team?_ I padded up and down a few times, just for effect, and all the while I sensed the kid's sad gaze follow my every move. _How the hell are we going to protect you when you keep running off?!_

My thoughts turned to a dull roar in our minds.

Sam whined again, and ducked his head to lick at his imprisoned paw.

Still padding up and down, I cast my mind back to last month, when Sam went missing for four hours, and turned up limping, bleeding, and exhausted beyond reason. We ain't into taking out an already endangered species, so the grey wolf pack struck damn lucky with us.

And a few days later, we stumbled on him being chased by two uniformed guys armed with tranq guns. Tobius and I had to undergo a real fast change, make a dash for the impala and head out after him. To cut a long car/wolf chase story short, Sam ended up taking a flying leap through the rear passenger window in order to escape the clutches of Animal Control.

And let me tell ya. Two naked guys cruising down the road with an oversized wolf on the back seat?

That'll turn some heads all right!

_Sammy_. I softened my approach a little. _Why? Just tell me why you're doin' this to yourself, huh?_

Sad and frightened blue-green eyes turned my way.

_He… he bled into my __**mouth**__ Dean. Demon blood…_

And suddenly I understood why he'd been acting up, like I shouldn't have worked it out sooner. Sam was mad as hell, madder than he'd ever been before in his entire life. He'd been violated, effectively _raped, _all control over his life stolen, and it scared him.

I guess I couldn't blame the poor kid. He was still reeling from all the revelations at the cabin.

Our Mom sold his soul to a demon before he was even born, probably in exchange for the very guy that later fathered us, and went on to abuse and shoot Sam when he was just fifteen years old.

On Sam's six month birthday, the demon returned, bled into Sam's mouth, killed our mother, and walked away, leaving the Winchester family in pieces and it's youngest with dormant psychic powers.

Years later, John Winchester was killed by Tobius Le Salle, non lunar werewolf, my Sire and werewolf father. But not before _Dad_ plugged Sammy with a silver bullet, whilst he was _actually_ trying to shoot _me._

The kid saved my life, and nearly died as a result.

_Would _have died.

But I bit him.

I sank my fangs into my little brother's flesh, and changed _everything._

Tobius wasn't convinced Sam would survive because we were once blood brothers. It's considered genetically impossible to turn a sibling, the violent rejection killing the recipient outright. The fact the kid not only survived, but flourished, tipped Sire off that something was amiss.

For my part? With Sam's survival came the news that I was now his father, and Tobius was an extremely proud grandfather.

It shook me up, treading out into the scary waters of fatherhood for the first time, but I gotta tell ya, Sammy made it so easy for me. But then, I've been taking care of the kid most of my life. Becoming his sire was a natural progression.

Saving Sam's life by turning him into a non lunar carried another side effect. It annulled the demon deal, but left Sam's slowly emerging psychic powers intact, and the yellow eyed bastard was furious.

Sam's first experience with his powers wasn't a pleasant one. His girlfriend and future mate for life was killed during an explosion. The poor kid dreamt about it for days before it happened, not realising it was something a little more serious than just a nightmare. And I _know _he's still beating himself up over it.

On top of all that, Lenore, head of the passive vamp nest down in Florida, confirmed along with Bobby Singer and Pastor Jim Murphy, that the demon had trained all the other special children like Sam – _or at least, would have been like him, had he not been turned into a non lunar _– and sent them after us.

Until we had solid plans, and decided how we were going to handle these psychic kids, if and when they put in an appearance, we eventually headed to our _special_ place. It was a long journey, with the three of us taking turns behind the wheel of the Impala, and Sammy was quiet for most of it.

He wasn't sleeping, and along the way, Tobius had taken the desperate step of drugging the kid from time to time. It was necessary to keep him safe. An insomniac Sam is a wandering Sam, hence his middle of the night exploits, restlessly prowling the neighbourhood and finding trouble wherever he went.

It became tiring and worrying. Sam would limp home in the early hours, angry and injured, so I'd taken to going with him, but it soon became apparent supervision wasn't the answer. Intervention_ was_, however.

So Tobius slipped a few powerful herbal sedatives into either his food or milk of an evening, allowing the kid to drift off into a seemingly natural sleep. There were no real side effects, other than he seemed a little woozy for a few hours after waking up. But we guarded him closely, never leaving him alone whilst he was so vulnerable. Sam wasn't stupid; he knew what we were up to, but didn't seem to have the energy to protest. May be he even welcomed the respite of a drug induced sleep. Can't really blame him for that either, I guess.

But right now, we needed to talk about this. Because he _had_ managed to sneak by us once again.

_Kiddo, I know you're angry, and you've every right to be…_ I stopped when he snuffled miserably, fangs gently nibbling at the iron cuff.

_It's not just that. _Sam stopped, rested his head on his huge paws and huffed softly. _I g-guess I'd better tell you._

_Tell me what?_

_Those dreams I had? About Jessica's death?_

_Uhuh?_ I sure didn't like where he was going with this, and shifted closer.

_I've been having… others. Dreams I mean, and sometimes… _he hesitated, soft eyes roaming my face. A nasty sense of deja-vu assailed me when his mind whispered

_And sometimes they come true._

We kind of guessed that much, what with his psychic crap and all.

But I _definitely_ didn't like where he was going with this. It sounded as though…

_Sam. _I tried to stay calm, my voice measured and precise. _Are you saying you've been investigating these dreams… __**alone?**_

If ever a wolf looked like a sheep, well, that wolf was Sam right now. Downright _sheepish_. It should've looked cute, but my temper was rising.

_Yeah, _his mind whispered.

Jesus Christ.

He wasn't deliberately trying to piss me off, I was certain, but the end result was just the same.

_What the hell, Sam?!_ I sprang forward and clamped my jaws round the soft fur on the scruff of his neck, forcing his head down again, and virtually burying his snout in the grass. He struggled a little but soon stilled when I let loose a fierce warning growl from deep in my throat. _What the hell were you thinking?!_

Giving him a hard shake, I growled again. Sam didn't fight back, which surprised me a little. I half expected the kid to snap.

_Well? I'm waiting, and it better be good!_

All I got for my troubles was a soft whimper. Not of pain, at least not physical pain, but one born of fear and heartache.

_I couldn't save her, Dean. I couldn't save Jess… but maybe I can save others._

Anger draining away, like surface water off black top after a heavy rainfall, I released my hold, backed off and lay down beside him. Sam's head still rested on the ground, eyes clenched shut.

_Sammy? _I gently batted his muzzle with mine, trying to push his long snout up again.

_C'mon kid, talk to me? Please, just let me help you… that's what I'm here for._

He'd asked me once, before we left the cabin. He'd asked for my help and I was all too willing to give it. But it clearly hadn't been enough.

_I just… I don't want you and Tobius getting hurt because of me… _his mind whispered. _I was trying to handle it on my own._

He pushed his muzzle under mine, snuffling softly into my neck, just like he used to when he was a pup, seeking shelter and warmth. I was just glad he still felt I could provide it, if nothing else.

_Aw Sammy, stop trying to protect us. We're all in this together, ok? Promise me you'll tell us next time you have a vision?_

Sam snuffled again then raised his head, fixing his brilliant blue-green gaze on me.

_I-I promise._

A smiling Tobius in human form appeared from the tree line, carrying wood and kindling in his arms.

_Good to hear it, pup. _Tobius set the wood down beside his grandson, then eyed the young wolf critically. _We'll say no more about it._

He reached over, unfastened the manacle and gently rubbed Sam's paw, gaze locking with his.

_I take it you boys still prefer your fish cooked?_

Sam whined softly in grateful agreement and licked Tobius' chin.

We spent a leisurely day by the river, 'fishing' with my usual finesse and style, Sammy laughing his ass off, generally play fighting, and rolling around in the lush grass.

It was nice being back here again. The last time we visited this place was before Sam's first change, before Gordon kidnapped, traumatized and tortured the poor kid, which was the main reason I drew the line at chaining him up with a collar. I was worried it would bring back bad memories for him. Like he didn't have enough of those! So it came down to his paw, or drugging him again, but we needed him lucid, to open up and talk to us, without the potential for him to run off and get in trouble again.

We stayed the night, all three of us curled round each other by the camp fire.

Bobby and Pastor Jim were due to meet up with us the next night, and this would prove a rare moment in Tobius Le Salle's personal history. These were the first humans he'd ever entrusted with the exact coordinates to our special hiding place in the wilderness. The only place on God's green Earth you'll ever find Dean Winchester _meditating _of all things.

But we needed the safety of being well and truly off the radar, because apparently Bobby and Jim Murphy had more news for us.

That was a little disconcerting and we hoped like hell it was _good _news. We already knew Sam was being targeted by the psychic kids with a mission to capture him and bring him into their fold. Azazel, the yellow eyed demon who originally killed our mom, was mad at us for ruining his plans. He expected Sam, like the other kids, to eventually step up and cross over to the demon's side, essentially turning evil.

By turning Sam into a werewolf when he was fifteen, I'd well and truly fucked that up.

Happily.

But what if these kids succeeded where Azazel had failed? What if they managed to get pass Tobius and me? What would… _could_ they do to Sam that he would be forced to change sides?

What did Azazel have up his sleeve?

It must have been something powerful, because the way we saw it? It seemed like Sam wasn't going to have a choice in the matter.

So whatever Jim and Bobby had to tell us, my fingers… _claws... _were crossed that they had the answers to all of the above.

These visions were driving the kid to the brink of insanity that much I was sure of.

And Tobius was about to point out something else that had my blood pressure soaring.

_Sam, I know I promised we'd say no more about it._

Sam shifted and peered over my neck. _Huh?_

Tobius sat up, paws crossed as he gazed into the flames.

_If your visions are being orchestrated by Azazel, then there's another very important reason why you should not be investigating these alone._ The ancient wolf turned to regard his grandson. _They could easily be a trap. To get you away from us._

Sam snorted. _Well yeah, that's kinda obvious, right? That's why I took off. That way you guys…_

_I meant,_ Tobius' voice was quiet but strong and firm in our heads, _a trap for __**all three **__of us._

If he were in human form right then, no doubt an eyebrow would have been raised.

_I gather you've heard of the expression __**divided we fall**__?_

Sam considered that with wide guilty eyes.

_Sure. It's easier to defeat us if we split up, and we don't have each other's backs. Yeah, I shoulda thought of that… _he reached up with one of those rear _huge_ paws and scratched at an ear, morosely. _Sorry guys. Guess I screwed up again._

I stretched my head back in a wide, toothy yawn, then leaned over and playfully snapped at Sam's muzzle.

_Don't sweat it, kid. You've had a lot to deal with._

_S'no excuse, _he grumbled, batting me away with the same paw he used to scratch his ear. _I need to think clearly for once._

Amen to that!

_Tell us what happened out there._

Sam seemed to think about that for a long moment, then sighed.

_It was that time I was gone for a few days._

Oh yeah, I remembered that all right. Not long after we hit the road and left the cabin behind, the little shit took off and used all those years of training to keep us off his scent. Needless to say, the fight that followed his return to the pack was fairly impressive.

_The first vision was of a kid by the name of Max Miller, or more accurately, his father._

It wasn't pretty and certainly came with no happy ending.

Max had been badly abused by his father and uncle for most of his life. He endured years of hate, savage beatings, and terrible neglect, but the worst part had to be the blame.

His father blamed him for his mother's death. She burnt to death in his nursery when he was six months old, and his dad never let him forget it.

Just a few weeks ago, Mr Miller Senior committed suicide in his garage, locked in the car with a hosepipe pumping poisonous exhaust fumes through the window. At least, that was what the police reports said, but Sam had a very different take on it.

Turned out young Max was a highly skilled telekinetic, his new gift acquired around the time Sam's psychic powers came about. And that couldn't have been a coincidence. Armed with the power of TK he'd arranged his father's death, and went on to slaughter his uncle, without so much as raising a finger. His step mom would have been next, impaled through the eye with her own kitchen knife, until Sam saw it all in another vision and stepped in.

Unfortunately, Max wasn't happy with that outcome and in spite of Sam's valiant attempt to talk him round, to persuade him there was hope and he wasn't alone, the kid TK'd Sam's Taurus right out of his jacket, and shot himself in the head.

_Nice._

_Jesus, Dean._ Sam muttered, mournfully. _Is that all you can say?_

_The kid was too far gone, Sammy,_ I replied, sadly, the only consolation I could offer. _You tried, ok? You did your best…_

Sam sprang to his paws with an unhappy growl. _And what about what John did to me, huh? Would you have said the same if I turned out like that? If you hadn't come for me in time?_

I rose up, slowly, towering over the pup. _No. And you know why? 'Cos you __**wouldn't**__ have turned out like Max. No way. You're not him, Sammy. You never could be._

Glowing blue-green eyes levelled on me. _How can you be so sure?_

I didn't want another fight, not tonight. It was the last thing we needed.

_Because, _my teeth gently but pointedly nipped at one of his ears, puffing warm breath into the shell. _I __**know **__you._

Tobius had remained silent up until now. _How many more visions have you suffered so far, pup?_

Sam hung his head. _There were two more._

Scott Carey, also Sam's age, had the strange ability to fry anyone he touched. Kinda like that chick off Angel, but without the skin tight rubber and nowhere near as hot.

It was too late by the time Sam got there. Carey had already been taken out by another hunter, one that Sam wisely steered clear of. Hunters who slaughter anything vaguely supernatural wouldn't think twice about taking out a non-lunar.

Ansem Weems and his twin brother Andy Gallagher were involved in the last vision. Split up, when their biological mother put them up for adoption, their adopted moms were both killed in a fire when they were babies. Andy's gift was one most guys would give their eye teeth for: the power of persuasion. The guy could get anything he wanted, and I mean _anything_, just by asking. Even more incredible, his twin brother didn't need to speak; if necessary he could thought project and that was some scary shit right there, given our non-lunar tendencies. Thank God Sam wasn't affected by it, though maybe that was because of his own psychic abilities. Andy sounded like a cool guy, but Ansem was another kettle of fish. He wanted revenge on the people that took away his only family through adoption, and that included Holly Beckett, their biological mom, and the doctor that delivered the twins and arranged the paperwork. Their deaths were pretty gruesome, it had to be said, but Ansem didn't stop there. He wanted rid of Andy's former girlfriend, someone he saw as another threat to being with his brother. Sam had another vision at this stage which lead to him saving the girl, Tracey, from a watery suicide, but earned himself a tree branch round the back of the head for his trouble.

Ansem, it seemed, didn't appreciate Sam's interference, and tried once again to persuade the girl to jump to her death. Andy saved the day by shooting his twin.

_Ok._

If I'd been in human form right then, I might well have pinched the bridge of my nose. There was something I couldn't quite wrap my head around, though I shouldn't have been surprised. This was _Sam_ after all.

_Uh... you wanna explain some of the terminology you used there?_

Sam looked genuinely confused. _Like what?_

I huffed and shared a tired glance with Sire.

_Like, the fact that these kids were part of Azazel's little army, and you were trying to __**save**__ them?_

_Uh… yeah? They're still human, Dean. This isn't their fault._ Sam insisted, eyes narrowing slightly.

_Fact is, Sam, these are some of the exact same kids that are coming after us, remember? The ones who are meant to take you back to Azazel?_

_I don't think so,_ Tobius interrupted. _Sam was sent out to see these children for a reason, perhaps to tempt him with the kind of other skills he could develop under his tutelage…?_

His voice trailed off as he glanced from Sam to me.

Yeah, I got it. This was Azazel's way of playing _nice_, if you will, and the only way he would be able get Sam to cooperate was to fool the kid into thinking he could _save_ _people_. These were perhaps the rejects of his plan, the ones that didn't pan out, and he found another way to use them.

Clearly it hadn't worked, merely freaked the poor kid out all the more.

Sam's furry head swivelled back and forth between us. _So these were just… uh… test subjects?_

Tobius gave himself a thorough shake and stretched out his body, paws scrabbling at the ground. _I'd say so. This was just the first stage of his games. Next time, he won't be quite so… polite._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hunter of the shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 2**

_**Now...**_

"**Tobius is out gathering more herbal pain meds," Dean mutters, busy laying a cold, damp washcloth across a sleeping Sam's hot forehead, but not too busy to talk to the camera. "Though if this continues, he says we may have to give him morphine." He hangs his head briefly. "I pray it doesn't come to that... and I've never been the praying kind."**

**Dean falls silent for a long moment, just watching over the younger boy on the bed. The room is silent except for the harsh panting of the injured youngster, and the slower breathing of the anxious **_**fatherbrother.**_

"**It's been two steps forward and two steps back these last few months," he whispers, despondently. "Think I've lost count of how many times Sammy's been hurt. No matter what I do... I couldn't keep my promise... I couldn't **_**protect **_**him this time."**

**He reaches up and gently cups his **_**brotherson's **_**cheek. "So sorry, kiddo," Dean swallows hard and sniffs, eyes spilling over with tears. "Please... I know you've had so much riding against you... but you're my **_**son**_**... you gotta keep fighting. If I lose you... **_**I**_** won't make it."**

_**Then...**_

Sam hung his head, but said nothing. His shoulders seemed to slump under an invisible weight, haunches down, tail drooping mournfully.

_C'mon, let's get some sleep._ My shoulder bumped his, comfortingly, when worried sorrowful eyes bored into mine._ We'll figure this out, but you gotta talk to us, ok? Don't shut us out, Sammy._

Sam slid to the grass dejectedly, nose on paws, and watched the dancing firelight. Tobius curled up on one side of the pup, with me on the other, and we took it in turns to keep a vigil over our youngest for the rest of the night.

The following day went pretty much the same way. Tobius was determined we would relax and cease worrying for a time. And we sure needed it.

He took us on a long day patrol, keeping the pace nice and easy, just appreciating our surroundings and breathing the fresh, cool air. With evening came another fun 'fishing' lesson for Sam, and I hadn't heard the kid laugh so much in way too long. Gone was the grim, worried and determined hunter in his early twenties. That day, I had my fifteen year old _brotherson _back again.

I lay awake some time later staring at the flames, occasionally nosing a small log into the fire pit. Tobius snuffled from time to time, and Sam snored lightly, with my muzzle resting over his neck. The young wolf was still often plagued with nightmares but that night was the quietest he'd been in a long while. When we hadn't drugged him of course.

I could feel the call of sleep pulling me under, the scent of wood smoke and the crackling fire, easily more soothing and calming than that damn whale music new-agers like to listen to.

Just dozing, huffing gently through my snout, eyes half closed…

There was another fragrance mingling with the smoke.

My head snapped up.

Humans.

_Tobius! They're here!_

But Sire was already awake, and sprang to his paws. Padding forward to stand in front of the blaze, Tobius sat back on his haunches, and waited.

I can only imagine the amazing scene Pastor Jim Murphy and Bobby Singer were presented with when they stumbled onto us a half hour later.

Tobius, in wolf form, silhouetted against the firelight, his fur gleaming with flecks of gold, and his family watching attentively in the background.

Judging by the dropped jaws, I'd have to say they were pretty stunned. But not intimidated; that's not really a word that exists in their vocabulary. The strongest word they might use is _impressed_.

Sire changed smoothly, bowed his head respectfully and held out a hand in greeting.

"Welcome," he smiled warmly, and the two humans visibly relaxed into a slightly less defensive stance.

Sure we were allies now, but no hunter worth his salt (no pun intended) would bet their lives on it without hard evidence.

They are humans. We are werewolves. There are protocols to follow.

The two human hunters eyed the werewolf and both steadfastly kept their gaze above Tobius' waist. Clearly, Sire's nakedness was making Bobby a little uncomfortable, but in reality it's a traditional non-lunar custom to greet trusted friends in one's birthday suit before discussing important business. Kind of a 'here we are, this is us, take it or leave it'. It's considered a mark of respect, but by the look on Bobby's face, I'd have to say he wasn't taking it that way.

I could almost hear the poor guy's thoughts, as he shuffled from foot to foot.

Bobby was probably just too polite to mention 'Hey! Guess what? Don't rip my throat out or anything, but... _you're naked!'_

Which I found a little unusual for Bobby 'get to the damn point' Singer. Fortunately, he stayed in character…

"Uh," Bobby scratched the back of his neck, and narrowed his eyes. "Is this the way of things? You expecting us to strip off too?" he shuddered a little. "'Cos if it's all the same with you, I'd rather not. S'a little chilly out here."

Tobius' mouth twitched in amusement but, ever the gentleman wolf, he kept his laughter under wraps. "Indeed," he replied, kindly, inclining his head slightly. "Whatever makes you comfortable."

The priest didn't mention it, just cleared his throat and nodded.

"Monsieur Le Salle," Pastor Jim shook the proffered hand with an air of formality that made me grin. "Always a pleasure."

I sensed Sammy holding back his mirth.

"Please, Pastor Jim," Sire replied in a deep, friendly voice that nonetheless brooked no argument. "Monsieur Le Salle was my father, and many years' dead. Call me Tobius."

His invitation was accepted graciously.

Bobby relaxed, shook Sire's hand and patted his shoulder, obviously content now that he knew where he stood. He stared Tobius in the eye for a moment.

"Good to see you boys again," Bobby appraised with genuine affection, then nodded respectfully towards Sammy and me as though seeking permission.

Sire grinned broadly, _affectionately_. "Likewise, old chap, likewise."

Permission granted.

Not that Bobby needed it; he was just being polite. He took one step in our direction, and that was as far as he got.

Bobby landed on his back with a loud "ommph!" and began squirming.

"Dean! Get off me, you damn great fur ball!" he yelled.

Standing over him, paws straddling either side of his body, I just grinned and swept my tongue up the side of his head, then made sure to breathe warm, fishy breath right into his nostrils. Satisfied I had his attention; I finished off by burying my wet snout deep in his neck.

"Ugh! Let me guess. You had trout for dinner, right?" Bobby eyed me with mock fury, though I'm sure his disgust was real enough. "That's real nice of ya, ya idgit!"

I just sank back on my haunches, tongue lolling out, with an air of smugness that made Tobius proud.

Bobby sat up; grinning in spite of himself, then tenderly ruffled the fur at my ears. His elbow seemed to develop a nervous twitch until a large, wet black nose appeared, nudging its way under Bobby's arm.

"Well, hello there, Sam," Bobby's grin softened. The young wolf sat demurely, his uncle's arm wrapped round him, and genteelly licking at Bobby's chin. The grizzled hunter chuckled. "Yeah, I missed you too, boy."

Pastor Jim began stroking my ears, and I close my eyes in contentment, leaning heavily against his hip. It was all he could do not to topple over and I smothered a grin. The guy smelled of menthol oil, for some reason, which I didn't mind but it did tickle the sensitive hairs in my nose.

"You're looking fit and well, Dean," Jim murmured. Poor guy still sounded a little uncertain. I guess he just needed more time to get use to us.

But… there was something about his scent…

I began sniffing in earnest, snout travelling upwards and roundabout.

Yup. It was faint over the scent of menthol, but definitely there, and it smelt… **divine!**

I suddenly rose up on my hind legs, and nosed my way inside the Pastor's dark jacket, snuffling eagerly.

_Where is it? I know it's here!_

"Dean, what on earth are you doing?"Sire called, sounding amused.

Pastor Jim, though at first stunned and possibly a little worried, soon recovered and started laughing at my faint growls of frustration, especially when I stuffed my snout deep into his jacket pocket.

But nothing!

_Where the hell is it? _I fumed again, frantically sniffing and drooling by now.

_Dean?_ Sam padded over, sat down in front of us and tilted his head to the side. _If it's the fresh batch of chocolate fudge cake you're looking for, you might wanna try checking the small day pack he's wearing?_

I stopped my frantic movements instantly, and stared over at him; snout still trapped in the Pastor's pocket.

_Huh? How dya know that?_

Sam appeared to be laughing at me.

Little bastard!

'_Cos Bobby told me just now. The Pastor's keeping them fresh and warm in an insulated container, which he shielded with the menthol oil you can smell._

Tobius chuckled. "And the oil might have worked well," he said aloud, "had the good Pastor not have been wearing the very same clothes he wore whilst baking, of course."

Pastor Jim smiled ruefully and shook his head in acknowledgement. "I guess I should've thought of that."

_Harrumph! _I snorted in disgust. _Smart asses the lot of ya!_

I attempted to pull back with every intention of relieving the good Pastor of his burden.

Only… well…

I kinda got stuck.

Trying to tug my muzzle from Jim's pocket proved ineffectual, so I adopted a well known ancient coping strategy often employed during 'Trapped Wolf Syndrome'.

Basically, I panicked. Shaking my head from side to side, I damn near tore the lining to shreds trying to get free. My muffled and mournful howls of despair might have been the motivation behind Jim's act of kindness, but more likely it was a desperate hope to save his jacket. His gentle hands reached out and stilled my struggles, fingers digging into the fur on either side of my head.

"Calm down, child," he muttered, and slowly began to work me free of the fabric. "I'll soon have you out."

"That'll teach ya to poke your nose in things that don't concern ya!" Bobby chortled away

Of course, Tobius had to make his own contribution.

"Don't think for a moment he'll learn his lesson," Sire drawled, smugly. "When it comes to chocolate fudge cake, or a well endowed bar maid, I'm afraid all reason escapes him."

Sam just carried on grinning, tongue lolling out his chops. Kid was definitely learning the ways of _Le Salle._

Again. Bastard!

"Nothing changes," Bobby retorted from his seat by the fire. He was laying back, arms crossed under his head, casual as you please. Guy could've spent his entire life in the company of non-lunars. He seemed that comfortable around us, probably no longer even noticing Sire's state of undress.

Finally, Pastor Jim took off the small pack, and, way too slowly for my liking, unzipped the main compartment.

When the smell of warm chocolate hit me like a tidal wave, I damn near pounced, but a firm hand on the scruff of my neck and a soft warning in my ear kept me back.

"Dean," Sire admonished. "Gently, now. You're a little bigger than you used to be."

Yeah, last time Pastor Jim and Bobby saw us was six months ago. We'd been on the move in all that time, hunting down strays, poltergeists and even a wendigo or two, toning up and getting stronger. And with my quarter century so close by, I'd been busy getting even bigger.

"Here ya go," Jim opened the lid on a plastic container, pulled out a square piece of cake and held it in the palm of his hand.

I know what you might be thinking. We weren't behaving like actual wolves around these guys; we were behaving like domestic dogs. As undignified as that seemed, its standard operating procedure around humans. Besides, this was a sign that Jim Murphy trusted us, and I wasn't about to fuck that up.

Slowly, I extended my muzzle and gently relinquished Pastor Jim of the chocolaty treat.

I couldn't help myself. Groaning in delight, I chewed, swallowed, and licked my chops with a loud, wet smacking noise. Jim roared with laughter when I began snuffling into his hand, then with low doggy grumbles started nipping gently at his fingers.

The guy offered a piece to Sam, the youngster gently accepting it with a soft whine of thanks, and now Pastor Jim had two wolves quite literally eating from the palm of his hands.

"I guess I'm finally accepting all this," his quiet voice took me by surprise. Looking up, I found Jim staring at me intently, a small smile on his face. "I struggled with it at first, even after the battle against Gordon I wasn't certain… werewolves were supposed to be evil… but with the good Lord's guidance, I learned to see the truth. This truly is you. And Sam," he glanced at the youngest wolf, "is now your son."

My gaze followed his, my heart bursting with love.

_Brotherson…_ I whispered to Sam.

_Fatherbrother… _Sam whispered back.

And if I didn't know any better, I could've sworn Bobby and Jim heard our silent exchange. Or, maybe, they _sensed_ it more than anything. You humans can be pretty intuitive when you put your minds to it.

"Dean's a strong and excellent father," Tobius' soft voice broke the quiet. "And I couldn't ask for a more wonderful and kind hearted grandson."

He moved closer and rested a hand on my head, fingernails gently scratching my fur, eyes glowing with pride. "I'm very proud of them both."

Sam, typically, ducked his muzzle under mine, and buried his snout in my neck.

_Sammy, _I laughed, softly. _You ever gonna learn to deal with compliments, dude? If you were in human form right now, you'd be blushing like a little girl!_

_Shutup Dean!_

Sam's shy response hadn't gone unnoticed, least of all by Bobby Singer, who grinned widely when the youngster peered up at him with those big puppy dog eyes.

Tobius cleared his throat. _Come on, boys. Time to talk._

We both knew that tone, and within seconds all present were seated round the fire, werewolves naked and in human form, but curled up together under a soft fleece blanket for warmth.

You can't afford to be self-conscious as a werewolf, and Sammy was finally coming to terms with it. Snuggling together is a natural instinct for us, regardless of form, and is also an essential part of the pack bonding process. It's especially important when one of the pack is grieving, though I guess you could say we were _all_ in mourning for Jess. Girl would have been a pack member one day, that much I was sure of.

So there's nothing chick-flick or perverted about it; just a silent need for comfort, and a physical need for warmth and contact. And having Sammy so close sure aids my peace of mind.

A vague memory of my life before becoming a non-lunar made me inwardly chuckle, and not for the first time. No way would I have been so accepting of sleeping naked beneath the blanket with Sam if I were still human.

Sam stifled a yawn, and I grinned, cupping the back of his neck, supporting him and guiding his head down to rest on my shoulder. And though his eyes slipped shut, I knew he was still awake. Sam was just dozing, but awake enough to hear what was being said.

It was actually kind of cute, and I'm certain Bobby agreed, given the fond smile directed our way. Sam, head resting on my shoulder, eyes closed and face flushed by the warmth of the fire, would murmur his contribution quietly now and then in a sleepy voice. And yeah, back came that fifteen year old at times like this, so I wasn't complaining.

Tobius leaned over and gently stroked Sam's hair, whilst I nuzzled my son's ear and breathed in his scent. We'd had too many near misses over the years, Animal Control issues aside, and it felt so damn good to relax amongst friends, take a breather and appreciate that, for now, Sam was safe.

The discussion started out fairly low key, relating the various hunts we'd been on since leaving the cabin, and there sure had been plenty. Ranging from a woman in white, a haunted mirror, a rawhead, non-lunar strays, and, of course, lunar-dependent could always be counted upon.

But my personal favourite had been a haunted truck, particularly because it led to a brief yet satisfying fling with the rather delicious Cassie Robinson.

Oh _yeah_.

She was a fiery, African-American journalist and non-lunar, with deep almond eyes and a body just _made_ for sex. It only lasted as long as the case, and that was just fine by the both of us. We parted as friends and promised to keep in touch but that wasn't likely. We were just two ships passing in the night, after all.

Sammy was a little disappointed. I think he liked her. Cassie was only one hundred years younger than Tobius, despite looking around Sam's age, and maybe Sam saw her as a mother figure. That thought had never occurred to me before, but when I brought it up, Sam had just shaken his head and laughed.

_I'm nearly twenty-one, Dean. Little old to be having mommy-issues, don't ya think?_

Kid had a point.

But he _had_ missed out in that respect, and once that thought caught hold, I couldn't shake it off. I began quizzing Tobius about other werewolves, real subtle-like, ya know…?

_Sire? Know of any chick-werewolves looking for a mate?_

He just fixed me with _that_ look, the one that's halfway between fond amusement and tired frustration.

_Dean, _he replied slowly. _Given his recent bereavement, I assume you're not asking on Sam's behalf. Which leaves you, _he poked my chest, _and me_?

An eyebrow shot up. _Just for the record, I do not need dating tips from you, young pup!_

I'd grinned in response. _Sure about that Mr Monk?_ And chuckled when he growled a warning. _Nah, seriously. I was just wondering…_

But he heard me out...

...and he didn't approve.

Tobius had sat silently for a long time after listening to my theory, which was: find a mate for me, who would be a mother to Sam. Hey presto! A full family. But it seemed to amuse and sadden Tobius all at the same time. He'd sat back and held a finger to his upper lip in thought, then cleared his throat.

"You're an excellent father and, if anything, this… _ridiculous _idea has proved it." Tobius had sighed softly at this point. "But a forced union – and that _is _what it would be – between you and another non-lunar isn't going to help Sam with what troubles him now. All he needs is you…"

_And you_ I added, quickly, earning a smile of thanks from the older wolf.

"…and throwing another stranger into the mix may make matters worse for him," Tobius had finished.

"He liked Cassie," I'd pointed out, though with a little less enthusiasm in the face of Sire's blatant rejection of my match making idea.

Tobius had smiled. "As a friend only," he'd tilted his head slightly. "_That, _and she made you happy for a little while."

He reached over and grasped my left hand, running a thumb over the knuckles.

"When you meet her, you'll know and you'll be ready, the timing perfect," Sire murmured. "But it can't be just for Sam; that would be too heavy a burden for the both of you."

Yeah. If it didn't work out, we'd _all_ be hurt by it, and Sammy would probably blame himself, knowing full well I'd only embarked on a permanent relationship for his sake. Kid was perceptive that way.

So that was the end of the matter. The subject never came up again, much to my relief, 'cos frankly, I was feeling a little foolish and embarrassed by the whole thing. I love being Sam's father. There's nothing else worth living for, as far as I'm concerned. But I wasn't ready to settle for one woman. Perhaps I never will.

"Dean? You with us kid?"

Bobby's sharp elbow in the ribs brought me hurtling back to the present, and I blinked in surprise. It wasn't like me to drift off, but then, I guess I had a lot to think about.

"Uh, yeah… sorry guys," I shook my head with a rueful grin. "You were sayin'?"

Pastor Jim cleared his throat. "Tobius was just telling us that you've taken up… golf?"

I stiffened at first, then shrugged. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Sam snorted, eyes snapping open to reveal blue-green irises glowing with mirth.

_Ok, I get it._ I narrowed my own eyes at Sire who merely grinned back. _The wolf skin gloves are off, huh?_

"Uh, let's just say, the least said about Dean's amorous activities of late, the better," Sam came to my aid, but his grin suggested it wouldn't last.

"Hey! It's perfectly natural!" I protested, weakly.

Sam pursed his mouth and thought about that, before slowly remarking. "When we took off from the Bluebell Tavern, there were foot prints on the Impala's _windshield_, which could lead us to suggest that whatever you were doing to that poor bar maid, it _wasn't_ natural."

"Nothing wrong with a little acrobatics in the bedroom…" I replied with a smirk.

"So long as it _stays_ in the bedroom," Tobius snarked out.

"And not the bunker on the _golf course!_" Sam exclaimed in mock disgust.

Bobby and Pastor Jim had been following the conversation with barely concealed amusement, but now that we were _finally_ getting to the crux of the matter, to wit, Sire's golf comment, they burst out laughing.

"Dude, it wasn't in the middle of the PGA Championship, ok?" I admit to sounding a little petulant, but it was so worth it to see a glimpse of _our_ Sammy once more.

Sam glared at me, though he was clearly trying not to laugh.

"You didn't even rake the sand back afterwards."

"Ah, I can just picture the scene," Tobius announced casually, whilst Bobby shook his head and the Pastor rolled his eyes. "An elderly couple, out for a Sunday afternoon round of golf. The wife is winning on the sixteenth hole, when she accidentally applies too much spin, and her ball lands in Dean's sandy buttock print."

"So, game over then. No way is she prising _that _free," Sam added, virtually choking with laughter

"Hey!" I protested against another round of snorting from Bobby and Jim. "My ass is not fat! I have a _cute_ ass, and you both know it!"

"Can't honestly say I've been looking, Dean," came Sire's dry comment. "I really don't swing that way."

That was just a little _too _much for me.

And besides, a quick glance at my Rolex told me time was getting away from us.

"Fun as this is, guys," I attempted a swift change of subject, and none too subtly either. "But dya think the reminiscing can wait 'til later? We've got case details to discuss, and I want to know what was so important that two human hunters came to a clandestine meeting with a non-lunar pack in the middle of nowhere."

I liked to think it was my tone of voice, combined with the use of _clandestine_ that got their attention, but I'm pretty sure it was just the reminder that the world was a considerably more dangerous place for a certain young pup than was strictly usual, even by _our_ standards.

I gently squeezed Sam's shoulder when I saw that nervous frown emerge.

_Sorry kiddo, but it's time to get down to business._

To my relief, Sire nodded approvingly. In the past, he'd quietly admonished my killjoy approach, but I guess this time it was a little more critical.

Playtime was over. Serious discussion was soon underway and continued on until the sky began to lighten in the east.

Tobius had filled the humans in on Sam's visions about the special children, and our theory that these were the damaged prototypes used to lure Sam in.

The kid just sat staring into the fire.

_You ok, Sam? _I bumped his shoulder with mine.

_As well as can be expected, I guess, _came his solemn reply, but a sudden small, tired grin and the stiffening of his spine sent a bolt of pride through my heart. _No one can say our lives are dull, huh?_

I chuckled softly. _Got that damn straight!_

He must have given himself a silent pep talk, because the Sam sitting beside me wasn't the frightened kid he'd been a few hours ago. _This _Sam was in hunter mode.

_This _Sam was rallying his strength and confidence in the face of an uncertain future. He'd meet it head on, with barely a flinch and, scared though he must have been, the kid wasn't going to let it break him.

_That's ma boy._

"So there you have it, gentlemen," Sire brought his speech to a close. "It appears the game is afoot."

_Or a knee, _I bumped Sam's shoulder again.

_Could be a hand,_ Sam surprised me by joining in, and we chuckled in our heads, until Sire growled a low warning.

_Stop messing about, you two!_

Sam and I hung our heads in silent apology, though the twitch at the corner of Sire's mouth told me he wasn't _too_ mad at us.

And now, it was Bobby and Pastor Jim's turn.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising**

**Chapter 3**

_**Now...**_

**Dean sighs heavily and rubs his eyes. **

"**It was nice seeing the guys again," his voice shakes with worry and exhaustion. He pinches of the bridge of his nose and blinks, "Uh... where was I?"**

"**At the part where you get some rest, young pup," Tobius suddenly appears directly right behind Dean and grabs him around the neck. Before the younger wolf can turn or fight back, with lightning speed two fingers are pressed firmly into the pressure point under Dean's ear, and he slumps unconscious in his Sire's arms.**

**Tobius smiles sadly down at his son, slides an arm under the younger man's knees and carries him over to the other bed. After a small pause, the ancient werewolf effortlessly pushes the two beds together and tucks a spare blanket round his little family.**

**Turning to the camera, he eyes the lens closely with suspicion.**

"**Dean hasn't slept in four days, so before I'm read the riot act, please consider what it will do to him... and his son... if he doesn't get some sleep." He reaches out a hand towards the top of the camera. "He'll be back soon but, in the meantime, talk amongst yourselves..."**

**With an audible **_**click **_**the screen fuzzes over with white, and turns black.**

**&**

**Another **_**click.**_

**Dean's face appears, adorned with a tight yet amused grin. **

"**I just watched the end to last night's video entry." He shakes his head a little. Although he's looking much more awake the persistent shadows under his eyes tells the digital watcher he could still use more rest. **

"**Don't think Sire likes the camera." Dean continues. "Finds it intrusive. He keeps complaining that it feels as though he's being watched." He shrugs and laughs faintly. "Which he is… kinda. Anyway, on with the journal entry..."**

_**Then...**_

The two men glanced at each other for a second, maybe mentally drawing straws as to who should speak first.

Evidently, Bobby drew the short one.

"It ain't just those special kids you gotta watch out for," his ominous tone sent shivers down my spine, and everyone froze, all eyes on the grizzled hunter.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, getting straight to the point, much to Bobby's approval.

Bobby took a slow breath, then let it out.

"I had a visitor to my yard," he explained. "A young woman by the name of Meg Masters." Eyebrows raised, he stared at each of us in turn.

We all shrugged.

"Can't say the name rings any bells," I replied.

"Never heard of her," said Tobius.

Sam shook his head. "Me neither. What did she want?"

Bobby turned that fiercely intense gaze on the kid, and said quite pointedly, "You."

The flames cast shadows across Sam's face, making his cheekbones appear sharper, more defined, and the thick black band around his irises seemed more pronounced. He looked every inch the bold hunter he'd become, eyes glowing beautifully, shoulders relaxed and body fluid, and I could almost hear his brain ticking over.

"One of the special kids?" he barked out.

"I _thought_ she was, 'til her eyes rolled black," Bobby replied. "Naw, she wants to _meet_ you. Reckons she's got somethin' you need to hear."

Sam gave a sharp nod. "It's a trap."

"Yep," Bobby responded without hesitation. "I'd say that's a given." He grinned. "Damn shame for her, the bitch walked straight into a trap of my own."

Tobius laughed, softly. "I _see_. A _Devil's_ trap, I assume?"

"On the study ceiling," said Bobby, smugly. "Put it there last summer, with Pastor Jim's help."

"So, that's it?" I folded my arms and scowled. "She just wants to _talk_? Where is she now?"

Pastor Jim seemed to take pity on Bobby at this stage, because he took over.

"We don't rightly know."

My scowl deepened. "What?!"

He shrugged and explained.

Once 'Meg' walked under the Devil's trap, Bobby had called Jim Murphy for backup.

The two hunters spent several hours interrogating the demon, but achieved a total of diddly squat. The hellbitch wasn't giving anything away, just insisted on speaking to Sam. The only thing they learned of any comfort? Azazel and his kids were obviously having trouble finding us, because Meg's orders had sent her to Bobby, figuring she could capture and torture him into giving up Sam's location.

Another phone call, this time to Lenore, and two days later Bobby and Jim set out to meet up with us, leaving 'Meg' tied to a chair under the Devil's trap, guarded by three of Lenore's strongest vampires.

But with the tables now well and truly turned on the demon, there _must_ have been a catch.

And there was.

The bitch acted like a homing beacon for Azazel's kids. Wherever she found Sam, they would soon show up. At least that was the plan. Apparently, finding herself in an impossible situation, she'd called to them, drawing them in and using them to procure her escape.

Which was why Lenore had called Bobby a day later with the news that two of the vamp guards were dead, brutally decapitated. The third vamp nearly met the same fate, but quick reflexes saved her life. She came away with her own battle scars, however, because her throat was ripped open during the attack.

The vampire had described two young adults in their early twenties, a short dark haired girl, and a guy with dark skin.

The guy took care of the vamps whilst the girl set about breaking the devil's trap on the ceiling… _just by looking at it._

That was more than a little disturbing. Even more so was the knowledge that one single, solitary guy took on three of Lenore's vamps… _and won_.

Not only did he rip the heads off two, but tore the _sculls_ clean apart. Just for fun or to make a point, no one was certain.

"Jeez!" I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "Guy should lay off the caffeine, huh?"

Sam attempted to smile at the poor joke, but it fell a little flat.

"The surviving vamp told Lenore he had the strength of a hundred men," Pastor Jim murmured, worriedly. "I suggested the poor thing was exaggerating due to her injuries and shock, but Lenore assured me it was the truth. In fact, she went as far as to say it was probably an understatement."

The five of us sat in silence, mulling that over.

"Is she going to be ok?" Sam asked, suddenly.

Pastor Jim smiled. "She's already on the mend, young Sam. Vampires heal quickly, just like you."

The youngster nodded, obviously relieved.

"So what happens now?" I glanced around our group. "Do we go after 'Meg' first? Or do we head for the Incredible Hulk and pray he doesn't stuff our heads up our own asses?"

"I don't think going _after_ anyone is such a good idea," said Tobius, "until we have a solid plan of action at any rate."

"We wouldn't know where to look, either." Jim nodded his agreement.

"So, we're just gonna sit back and let them come to _us_?" I exclaimed, angrily. "What the hell kind of plan is that!"

"Dean," Sam murmured and gripped my arm. "What do you suggest we do? Go into a full battle without all the facts? Dude, it sounds like this guy could rip us to pieces!"

And yeah, I knew he was right. But I sure didn't like it. Sitting around waiting for the shit to hit the fan just ain't my style.

Tobius glanced at me, eyes narrowed, and nodded.

"We're not going to figure out anything running on empty," he yawned widely then slowly _stretched _into wolf form, muttering "let's all get some proper sleep and we'll talk again" as he did so, voice deepening into a tired growl.

"Not such a bad idea," Bobby stood and grabbed his pack from near the campfire. He shook out two tightly rolled sleeping bags, each unfurling to reveal a weapon. Bobby's contained a shotgun, which he immediately scooped up and checked over.

He grinned at me and opened his jacket, the dull gleam of a sawn-off catching the firelight. "Never hurts to carry a spare."

Jim swiped up a machete from his own sleeping bag, unsheathed it for a quick inspection, then tucked it under his bed for the night.

"Huh," I snorted, cockily. "Try not to cut your own head off when you roll over."

The Pastor glared at me. "I was wielding blades larger than this before you were even a twinkle in the postman's eye, boy!"

"Questioning my parentage?" I clutched a hand to me chest and fluttered my eyelashes. "That hurts, man."

"I'm sure," was his sarcastic reply.

Like _that_ wasn't ironic!

A soft doggy-like snore caught my attention, Sam's red furry ears tickling my chin. He was changing in his sleep, nose elongating into a snout, soft warm air puffing through his nostrils. A long tongue appeared, swiping once round his chops before lolling down over my shoulder.

_Nice, Sammy. That's real nice._

I could have sworn there was a small smirk on his face, just for an instant, but his breathing soon evened out and the kid was snoozing away, the soft downy hair shifting slightly as his chest slowly expanded and contracted.

Our inner wolf switches _prefer_ to take control out in the open, and mostly we let them. It's a protective instinct, against the cold _and _any potential threats lurking in the darkness beyond the firelight. It's a hell of a lot easier to defend ourselves, and our territory, in wolf form, with the added bonus of better hearing and sense of smell. Hence we never bother with a guard rota while we rest.

Sam grunted softly and rolled into me once my own change was complete, burying his wet snout in my neck, and at the same time I curled my head and tail round him.

I sensed the humans watching us with fond curiosity whilst we settled down for what was left of the night. Bobby looked like he wanted to curl up with us, so I gazed at him, my jaw changing briefly to deliver permission.

"If you get cold," I uttered, vocal cords deep and gritty from the temporary partial change, "by all means, join us."

I wasn't about to let our human family get sick. Not if I could help it.

Bobby snorted with laughter. "Kid, as tempting as that is, I think I'll decline. Got a perfectly good sleeping bag right here." He patted the soft material, winked and climbed in fully clothed.

Bobby didn't fool me for a second, though.

I remember when I was a kid, staying at the salvage yard, sometimes finding the guy asleep on the ratty old sofa in the living room, his two elderly Rottweiler's curled up with him for warmth. Those dogs followed Bobby everywhere, right up 'til the day the older one died right on his master's heels, faithfully crossing the yard. The younger one pined for his lost brother, finally passing away a few months later.

Bobby never really got over that.

Staring down at my beautiful son, the kid snuffling and snorting in his sleep, lying safely between his grandfather and me, I could understand why.

Gently pushing my snout into his ear and huffing softly, I bid him goodnight.

_Sleep well, Sammy._

We only slept until the sun was fully up and casting its warm, morning rays across the meadow, but it was a sleep much needed by all. Allowing the human hunters another hour or so to rest, Sammy and I were about to slip away, leaving Tobius to watch over them and stoke the fire. But we lingered for a while, feeling worried and protective.

Sire shook himself from head to tail, and changed.

_They'll be fine. Humans aren't designed to go as long as us before recharging._

_We won't be long,_ I replied, and brushed against Sam, gently nudging him away from the camp.

_Dean? _Sam sounded a little doubtful. I smothered a grin. Had a feeling I knew what was coming.

_Yeah!_

_Are you sure Bobby and Pastor Jim will be ok with… er… fresh meat?_

_You mean,_ I responded casually, _fresh kill? Oh sure. They're hunters, Sam. Not vegetarians._

_I know that! _Sam snorted, reached over and nipped at my neck as we trotted through the trees, and headed towards the river. _But there's a hell of difference between buying a few steaks from the butcher's, and watching us hacking away at a dead deer!_

I couldn't help laughing. _They ain't squeamish, Sammy. They'll deal._

The kid narrowed his eyes. I could feel his powerful, exasperated glare even though I wasn't looking at him.

_S'not what I meant and you know it!_ Sam retorted, and nipped me again.

_Hey! Cut that out, hound! _I snarled, then whirled, tackled the younger wolf to the forest floor and rolled him on to his back. Sam's soft underbelly was exposed, his huge paws up, body falling lax in submission.

Yeah right. Like I was gonna fall for that!

His eyes glowed with mischief, something I hadn't seen in way too long.

_You make it so easy, Sammy. _I turned my back and trotted off nonchalantly, but performed a secret count down in my head.

Five… four… three… _oomph!_

The air rushed out of my lungs when Sam barrelled into me from behind, knocking me down into a roll and finally planting himself on my stomach. His lazy grin, tongue hanging out the side of his chops, nearly made me laugh out loud, but I scowled instead, to keep the game going.

Perhaps it wasn't the right time for such playful antics, but I figured a couple more hours wouldn't hurt. It was nice to spend time, just the two of us, father and son, and I'm sure it's the real reason why Tobius stayed behind.

_You'll never take me alive, Sam! _I suddenly bucked upwards, throwing him off, and this time the look of comical surprise on his face had me roaring with laughter.

The youngster sprang to his paws, drawing himself up to his full impressive height, then slowly lowered his massive head. His eyes were fixed on me, watching my every movement as we circled each other one way, then the other.

_You think so? _His soft, smooth voice in my head made me grin. This was Sam trying to be intimidating, and had it been anyone else but me, it would've worked. _I could take you down with one… er… paw!_

_Oh really? You sure about that?_ I feinted left but the kid was expecting the move, and darted out of reach. _'Cos I gotta tell ya, Sammy, I seen five year olds move faster._

_You're trying to goad me, _he growled softly, still playing the intimidation card. _But it ain't working, Dean._

I snorted, reached up with a rear paw and scratched behind my left ear. _Oh I think it is, **Sammydawg**. And you know what else?_

_What!? _He bit out, the hated pet name striking up another spark of defiance.

_I seen five year olds with more __**strength,**__ too!_

That did it. I spotted the very moment when I finally got his goat. His eyes flared with impatience, right before he leapt at me once more.

We rough housed for a little while longer, sparring, exchanging good natured insults, as we moved through the forest towards the river, bringing the play fight out into open. It ended with us both rolling on the river bank, our fur clumping up with slick dark mud, until we slumped, side by side, floating in the water on our backs.

The sun was warm on our faces, pleasantly heating our belly-fur, and the smell of wild flowers sweetened the air, wafting up our noses. Might as well make the most of it, huh? Peace was gonna be in short supply soon enough.

_Hey, Dean?_

_Uhuh._

_Can you imagine what we must look like? What if some hiker came by?_

My lips curled up into a grin.

_Yeah. S'not everyday you go for a nice relaxing stroll in the country, then come across a couple of muddy wolves sun bathing on the river._

Sam chuckled in my head. _Probably wouldn't know whether to laugh or run!_

I flicked my heavy water-laden tail at him, splashing water up his nose.

The kid spluttered and glared at me indignantly.

_Hey!_

_Watcha gonna do 'bout it?_

Last thing I saw before being shoved under water was Sam leaping high, all four paws spread out, jaws open wide, his angry battle howl disturbing the silence of the river.

It was my turn to splutter, but I eyed him with admiration when I finally surfaced.

_Not bad kid. Wasn't expecting that._

The cocky young wolf was back with a vengeance, and I have to say that I couldn't have been happier.

Sam's smug grin was well practiced that morning. Being the bigger wolf, and believe me _Sam's _pretty damn huge himself, it fell to me to hunt down breakfast for the humans, whilst Sam caught a nice selection of trout.

An hour later, I rejoined Sam at the river, dragging an elderly stag with enormous antlers.

Sam grinned and shook himself violently, sending water drops all over me. I'd dried off by that point so I wasn't exactly amused at being drenched again.

_Don't you worry, Sam. _I dipped my head towards the fresh kill and gave out an exaggerated huff. _I'll deal with this… you just sit there… I'll be fine… no no! _I pointed out, petulantly, when he made a move to come help me. _Just you relax and let me do all the work…_

Sam rolled his eyes in amusement. _Cute, Dean. Now shut up and let's get the food back to camp._

_Bossy little shit._

_Sure I am. Like father like son._

_Smartass._

By the time we got back, Bobby and the Pastor were wide awake and sipping hot coffee from plastic mugs. I sniffed the air appreciatively.

The best caffeine-free java money could buy.

_I sure could go for some of that right now._

Tobius, throwing another log on the fire, indicated two more mugs nearby. _Help yourself. Courtesy of your Uncle Bobby._

Sire was eyeing us with amusement, mouth twitching at one corner. But when we turned back into human form, he roared with laughter. Bobby and Jim grinned broadly but said nothing.

"What on God's green earth have you two been up to?" Sire choked out.

Sam and I looked at each other. Dark streaks of drying mud clung to our bodies, flaking off in places, but the funniest was Sam's eyebrows and that thick head of shaggy hair.

Oh man!

"Dude, the mad professor look suits you," I grasped his shoulder, laughing. "Ya know, if they ever remake Back to the Future you could audition as the doc…"

Sam scowled. "Haha. That's real funny." He folded his long arms across his chest. "Just don't give up the night job, huh, Dean? Your stand-up routine sucks balls."

Pastor Jim choked on his coffee.

_Sam!_ I admonished. _Not in front of a man of the cloth, dude!_

_Oho! That's rich coming from you!_

_As a parent, I'm entitled to be a hypocrite. I've earned the right!_

Even Tobius raised a sardonic eyebrow at that, whilst Sam shook his head, laughing, backed down and apologized to the priest.

Jim merely nodded, but he was obviously hiding a smile.

Sam's earlier worries were put to rest when Bobby and Jim helped to prepare breakfast. Without so much as batting an eyelid, they got to work on gutting and cleaning the deer, whilst Sire gathered more logs, and Sam got stuck into the trout.

My job was simple. I 'supervised'. Much to Sam's annoyance.

Hey! I'm the pack beta and bodyguard, ok? I don't **do **menial tasks. I watch for danger... and observe...

It turned out to be quite the feast, and the smell of cooked fish and venison lingered long after the meal was over.

And not a scrap went to waste. Bobby wrapped most of the remaining cooked venison in his sleeping bag to keep for snacks later on.

Yeah, that probably sounds gross to you guys, but we're wolves. Even with Sire's sophisticated training of our palette, we'll still pretty much eat _anything._

In spite of the well earned rest, and the delicious food, we were no closer to coming up with a plan by the time the afternoon rolled by us, and turned into evening.

We were stumped.

"We could just set ourselves up here," Sam spoke up suddenly. "I mean, those kids'll find us eventually and I, for one, would rather have the showdown out here, than in some public place where an innocent bystander could get hurt."

I nodded, but frowned. "Have to say I agree. But I don't like the idea of letting them come here either." I glanced at Sire. "And if they do, they'll be coming all at once."

Tobius poked at the fire, looking worried and thoughtful. "Quite. Taking them _all _on wouldn't be wise." He gazed sharply at Sam. "But… letting them come to us, one by one… that _could_ work. If Sam can harness those visions..."

I could see what he was driving at. The idea was to keep moving on as we had been, but using Sam's visions to find the special kids. Chances were, they were hunting alone, but as soon as one of them 'stumbled' on to us, no doubt he or she would call to the others, perhaps bringing this Meg-demon with them. So we would need to act quickly, take them out silently and with as little fuss as possible.

No one ever said this was gonna be easy, but _shit!_

Did it really have to be this hard?

Sam licked his lips, trying to hide how nervous he was.

"Uh… I can try. I mean, it's the only way we got of finding them," troubled eyes turned my way. "But I don't know how to control it. Supposing…" his voice trailed off.

"Supposing what, Sam?" I prodded his arm, gently.

"Supposing I get it wrong and it warns them," Sam's brow wrinkled into a deep frown. "What if by trying to find them it calls them all together? We'll be outnumbered and outgunned. We wouldn't stand a chance."

Our group fell quiet. We were back to square one again. And what a wonderfully familiar and above all _frustrating _place it was. Until...

"I might be able to help with that," Bobby's gruff voice broke the silence. "But we'll need to get back to the salvage yard."

_That's a little risky given that Meg's already been there searching for us. _I raised an eyebrow at Tobius.

_Anything we do from now on is risky _Sire replied. _No matter where we go, there's a chance we'll be found before we're ready. At least at Bobby's yard, she's least likely to return… a sort of 'lightening never strikes in the same place twice' scenario if you will._

And it seemed that really was the best we could do.

"What do you have in mind?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"So far, you've only had visions." Bobby stared at him without flinching. "I want to put you in a devil's trap first off, just to see what else you can do. Then maybe I'll be able to help you control your abilities through hypnosis. But I'm warning ya, Sam. It's gonna hurt. Messin' 'bout with this kind of stuff always does."

Sam took a shaky breath and bit his lip, uncertainly. His anxious gaze sought mine.

"Why a devil's trap?" I asked, feeling more than a little unhappy with all this.

Pastor Jim sipped at his coffee and shrugged. "Standard practice for testing a psychic. The Eye of Solomon isn't just a trap for demons; it's also used to create a safe playground for practicing special gifts, such as TK, electrokinesis, and necromancy." He smiled at Sam. "The upshot is you can learn how to use your powers without attracting any _unwanted_ attention."

In other words, a devil's trap not only incarcerates demons, but it also prevents them getting _in _and keeps their powers _out. _That sure was news to me, and judging by the look on Tobius' face it was also news to him.

Sire clicked his tongue, and glanced at Sam. _Well? It's your call, boys. Personally, I think it's our only course of action thus far. But this has to be your decision, Sam. Subject to approval from your father. _He smiled a little at that.

Sam nibbled ferociously on his bottom lip, making it bleed. Must've been feeling all kinds of hell right then.

I cupped his jaw, forcing the poor kid to look at me.

_Stop that._ My mind whispered, gently. I held up a blood stained finger. _I'm not gonna make you do this if you don't feel comfortable, so stop fretting._

He sighed and closed his eyes. _I know you won't._

Sam opened his eyes again when I grasped both his shoulders. _Do you trust me, Sam?_

_You know I do_. His immediate response sent a bolt of warmth and pride through me from head to toe.

_Good boy. _I rested my forehead against Sam's. _You also know I love you, right?_

He smiled. _Yeah. Ditto. More than life itself._

But I felt his surprise on hearing that for the first time.

We never say it _out loud_. But that doesn't mean we could _never_ say it.

We packed up and headed back to the car just before dawn. Bobby and Jim had hidden their truck off road behind a crop of pines, whilst the Impala was skilfully covered by a camouflage tarpaulin and some thick bushes.

It was a sign of the times, I guess. Never before had we needed to hide her up like that, especially out here, but we couldn't afford to take any chances.

When Sam climbed in the back, I joined him, much to his surprise.

_Dude, aren't you driving?_

_Nah. I'll take my turn later. Now c'mon. Get some sleep, Sammy._ I patted my knees.

The kid smiled gratefully. In spite of the few days break from the road, he was still sporting some impressive baggage beneath his eyes. Sam obediently slid down, until his head rested against the offside passenger window, and draped his large feet over my lap. Within seconds, his eyes closed and his breathing evened out.

Tobius winked at me before sliding behind the wheel.

_**Author's notes:**_

_**I know there's not been much action so far, but it is coming up I promise.**_

_**Thank you so much for all your support so far. Pretty sure you can gather how nervous I've been about this as a sequel.**_

**_Again, I apologize for the formating. This site won't let me introduce scene breaks. I think there's some kind of secret society behind it...._**

_**Although I'm behind in the show's episodes, and I'm avoiding spoilers as far as possible – I just watched Abandon All Hope for the first time – I am aware of how despondent you all feel at the moment, and I hope that this fic helps to cheer you up a little. It won't be all sunshine and roses, as you can tell from Dean's journal entries, but I **_**can**_** assure you that no matter what happens Sam and Dean will remain absolute hunting partners, brothers, and son and father throughout this story.**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST x**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2: **

**Hunter Rising. **

**Chapter 4**

_**Now…**_

**There's something over the lens, something grey and cloth-like, moving in a sweeping circle and the watcher can hear a weird squeaking noise. Then it's removed and all falls into darkness for a moment, until a large set of tonsils can be seen, shortly before it all fogs up. Back comes the cloth, sweeping, circling, and the field of view gradually becomes clear.**

"**Hey," Dean says quietly, "Sire knocked me out again, just after I was coming out of the bathroom."**

**His smile is weak and pathetic. "Would you believe I actually tried to start a fight when I woke up from it?" A soft smirk emerges, though it sounds closer to a whimper. "Didn't work. Should know better than to take on the pack alpha, huh? The guy didn't bat an eyelid. Even Sam with **_**his**_** temper wouldn't have tried it."**

**A plate, held out by a disembodied hand, suddenly appears under Dean's nose. It bears red meat, chopped into small cubes, and some buttered wholegrain bread.**

"**M'not hungry," Dean sighs, turning his head away.**

"**It wasn't a request," Tobius moves into shot and crouches down by his son, eyes glowing fiercely. His manner suggests he is not beyond force-feeding the stubborn young beta, and no doubt he would succeed.**

**Dean looks back up at the older wolf, clearly exasperated. But instead of arguing, he nods, accepts the food, pops a piece of the meat in his mouth and chews slowly. Tobius stands to full height again, and sets about his tasks.**

**Neither wolf attempts conversation whilst Dean feeds, but Dean's eyes follow his Sire's every move, from changing the clear bags hanging beside the bed, attached to Sam's arms via long, thin tubing, and checking the unconscious boy's eyes.**

**It's a few minutes before Tobius finally speaks up, voice quiet and melodious. **

"**I won't lose you both. I can't. And if you want your son to stand a chance of surviving this, then you must start taking better care of yourself. Sam needs you… **_**I **_**need you... to be strong."**

**Dean stops chewing, mouth falling open in surprise and revealing a gross mess of semi-chewed meat, but says nothing.**

**Tobius glances up from his ministrations. "You're the pack beta and bodyguard, but also our advisor and counsel," a small look of disgust passes across his face. "Please close your mouth when eating. I'm not the squeamish type, but I do have standards."**

**Dean immediately closes his mouth as ordered, but there's a glimmer of a smile in there… somewhere…**

**Pretty soon, the plate's empty and Dean is sitting up against the headboard of his bed, Sam in his arms, and stroking the youngster's scalp.**

"**So, Bobby wanted to try out a Devil's trap on Sam. Can't say any of us were keen, especially when we got to Singer Salvage and Bobby produced some heavy-assed looking chains." he shrugs and asks his audience "But what alternative did we have?"**

_**Then…**_

Two thankfully uneventful days later, and we arrived at Bobby's yard. It was my turn behind the wheel, whilst Sam drooled against his grandfather's shoulder and, in a way, I was sorry to see the journey end so soon.

Because over the next few days, I knew Sam would be in for a hard time of it.

And boy! I sure wasn't wrong…

"Bobby, are you sure those chains are completely necessary?" I watched the preparations with no small amount of worry. We'd already been over this, but I still wasn't happy.

Sam was tied to a chair under the newly repaired devil's trap in Bobby's study. Heavy chains secured his wrists to the arms, and several thick lengths wrapped his chest and stomach.

The kid was clearly scared, eyes wide and darting round the room... from Bobby... to me... to Sire... back to me... to Jim... and then back to me again.

Bobby just shrugged. "It's for our safety as well as Sam's. And as he's non-demonic he could just walk out from under the trap at any time before he's ready." He stared pointedly at me. "And if he's as powerful as I suspect he is, that could put us all in danger."

I shook my head in frustration. "Sam wouldn't harm us…"

"He wouldn't mean to, Dean," Pastor Jim said quietly. "But once we get started he might not be able to control himself."

"I'm right here," Sam interrupted, miserably tugging at his bound arms. "You don't have to talk about me like I'm not even in the room."

Bobby smiled sadly. "Sorry kid. How're those chains, son? Not too uncomfortable, I hope?"

Sam just shrugged, forlornly. What could he really say to that, anyhow?

Bobby had taken the time to be extra careful with my son, even knowing the kid would heal quickly from abrasions, wrapping his arms in soft bandages before securing them to the chair. A sure sign of his love for the kid.

But it didn't make it any easier to bear, seeing Sam trussed up like a wild animal.

I crouched down in front of him.

"I'm right here, Sammy. No need to be scared, ok?" I rubbed a thumb over his cheekbone. "If it gets too bad just tell me and I'll put a stop to it."

_Yeah. _He nodded shakily. _Thanks Dean._

_No problem, kiddo._

Stepping back, I nodded to Bobby and Jim. Tobius hovered silently nearby, a deep worried frown on his face. Sire had been quiet throughout most of the preparations, watching everything carefully, as though he was memorising it or something. Would've gladly given more than a penny for his thoughts right then, but the guy remained unnervingly quiet.

Bobby dragged a small stool out from under his desk and sat down in front of Sam.

"I want you to relax, Sam," the hunter sat up straight in his seat, hands on knees, eyes boring into Sam's. "I know it's hard, but try not to fight me, kid. It'll only make things worse."

A long eerie silence descended, broken only by Sam's breathing and the clink of metal as he shifted in his bonds.

Bobby, as I may have mentioned before, is a pretty powerful magic user, and only one step away from being an honest to God sorcerer. That's scary stuff, when you consider what could go wrong if that kinda shit fell into the wrong hands. And we've seen it happen before. A young girl by the name of Jo Harvelle was not only a powerful witch, but a hunter and vampire. She once came after Sam, and damn near took us all down in the process. She was a prime example of magic put to ill use.

"That's it Sam," Bobby whispered. "Keep your eyes on me, and just… _fall away…_"

Sam's head wobbled on his neck and his eyes grew heavy.

"_Huhn…_" the kid whimpered as though in pain, and I took a determined pace toward him.

Sire caught hold of my arm. "He's in no danger at this stage. Let him be." _This might be his only chance to try this in safety._

I swallowed hard, nodded, and backed away.

Sam fell limp in his seat, eyes fully closed, head falling back against the head rest.

"Sam?" I called, anxiously.

"It's ok," Bobby spoke softly, though his eyes never left Sam's face. "He's just asleep. For now."

According to Pastor Jim, Sam's mind would be easier to slide into whilst in a deep sleep. The trouble would come when Bobby tried manipulating him, getting his thoughts to _bend_ to Bobby's will. It was a painful task for both Bobby and psychic at the best of times, but no one had ever tried it on a werewolf, so I guess Sam, Tobius and I weren't the only ones scared out of our minds.

Bobby had to be _crapping_ himself.

Guy's pretty brave, huh?

Not sure I really understand the dynamics of it, but it had something to do with Bobby reaching in and flipping some switches in Sam's head, finding the ones earmarked with 'psychic ability' and showing Sam how to control them. Now that sure worried us. If he flipped the wrong ones we'd have an extremely scared, angry and pained wolf on our hands. Not only that, but he could lose all control over those switches, effectively turning his behaviour temporarily into a kind of lunar-dependent. I could probably overpower him, but not before he ripped free of his bindings and tore out Bobby's throat.

Guess that's why Tobius and Jim stood by, armed with heavy duty tranq guns.

"Ok, I think I found the first one," muttered Bobby. "Here we go…"

He broke off with a sharp hiss at the same time as Sam's body jerked and strained against the chains.

Bobby's face was going an alarming shade of red by now, and I was beginning to worry about the guy.

"Got it," he panted out, then wiped a hand over his forehead, seeming surprised when it came away damp with sweat. "Jesus, he's so strong…"

Couldn't help it, but my back stiffened with pride. That was _my boy_ he was talking about.

"On to the next." The grizzled hunter settled once again on his stool.

Somehow I got the feeling this was only gonna get harder the more Bobby kept probing Sam's mind. Kid's stubborn like that, and when he perceives a threat, he only becomes more resistant.

I wasn't wrong in that assumption, either. The instant Bobby tried again, blood dripped from his nose.

"Sire, I'm not sure this is such a good idea," I whispered. _Bobby ain't getting any younger._

"I heard that!" Bobby ground out, indignantly.

"Huh?" I blinked, stupidly.

Pastor Jim smiled faintly. "He's in Sam's head, which means he can listen in on your thought projections."

"Oh," I glanced at Bobby and winced. "Guess I'd better keep my big inner mouth shut from now on, huh?"

"Been tellin' ya that for a while now," replied Bobby 'smartass' Singer.

"Don't panic, Dean," Sire squeezed my shoulder, sounding amused. "It's only whilst he's in Sam's mind."

"Phew! Wouldn't want him to hear about his terrible dress sense," I grinned when Bobby appeared to be fighting the urge to give me a filthy look. Clearly he needed to keep his eyes on Sam for concentration. "Or that ball cap. Man! How old is that thing, anyhow? Could probably grow potatoes inside it!"

"Just keep it up, Winchester, and you…" Bobby suddenly cried out and slumped forward, head resting on his knees. "Shit! That hurt!"

The blood dripping from his nose turned into a full on stream, staining his scruffy old jeans.

But Sam…

His eyes had snapped open, glowing fiercely, mouth trembling. The kid panted fast and hard, neck muscles bulging, face turning red.

_GET... OUT! _His mind roared, making Bobby flinch.

Sam began screaming in pain, blood pouring from his nose, eyes, ears... and my heart went wild inside my chest.

I felt my fear set in, trying to take over...

Sam wrenched desperately at his chains, fingers morphing into claws, and back again, ears sliding up and down his head, nose elongating and contracting.

Teeth lengthening and gleaming with saliva, he was fighting valiantly against an involuntary change, but it was only a matter of time before it overcame him.

_Oh God no! _

"Bobby, you hit the wrong switches," I yelled angrily. "Do something, for fuck sake, before we lose him!"

"I'm workin' on it, ya idgit! Now pipe down!" Bobby yelled right back. He squeezed his eyes shut and muttered something under his breath.

Instantly, Sam fell silent, body relaxed and pliant in the chair.

"Sammy?" I strode across to him, but stopped just shy of stepping under the devil's trap when Bobby growled angrily.

"Don't touch him just yet, not until I'm certain he's ok," he stared hard at Sam for several long minutes, presumably still probing the kid's head. "He's unconscious for now, and that might be a good thing."

"Why's that?" I asked, worriedly watching the slow rise and fall of Sam's chest.

"He might be a little less resistant next time." Bobby replied.

And that was the _wrong_ answer.

If anything, Sam's subconscious, sensing another assault, closed ranks and hid him behind a protective barrier.

And a damn powerful one at that.

Bobby had his work cut out for him....

Two days later, Sam was still unconscious, stained with his own blood, still chained the chair, and Bobby was still trying to get through to him. Both men were looking ragged and exhausted, draining reserves like an afterburner on reheat. Trouble was, we couldn't even get close to Sam to bring him sustenance.

Yeah. I can feel your shock from here.

Bobby had found the TK switch, given it a tweak, and suddenly the protective barrier in Sam's head expanded, broke out, and drew on the powers of the devil's trap.

_No one_ could get under it, probably not even Meg if she'd chosen to show up just then.

When I tried, it was like running in syrup, if the syrup turned to superglue and stuck your feet to the floor. Not the most pleasant experience, I can assure you.

So Tobius and I were left to prowl up and down the room helplessly, watching every pinch of pain on Sammy's face whenever Bobby tried again.

"What about breaking the trap?" I asked suddenly, several hours later.

It was getting desperate. Sam had been bleeding again, and though nothing like this could be fatal to a werewolf, it was surely damaging him in other ways.

"Too risky," Pastor Jim handed Bobby a bottle of cold water. "We have no idea how that could hurt Sam."

"There must be _something_ we can do!" I fumed, running a hand through my hair and tugging at the roots.

Bobby took a long swallow of the water, then poured some over his forehead.

"There might be another way," he mused tiredly. "But just give me a sec to get my strength back."

I bit down hard on my tongue, wanting to demand he just get a damn move on, but he was right. Poor guy was looking pretty ropey by now, and he _was_ trying to help us.

But then...

Bobby turned to study me. That gaze was scary-deep, real penetrating and had me shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Felt more like a rodent than a wolf just then.

The guy suddenly got up and told me to sit in his place.

"Huh?" I glanced at the now vacated seat. "What can _I _do?"

Bobby gently pushed me down on to the stool. "You're his father. There might be plenty you can do."

I heard Tobius and Jim murmuring behind us, and turned my upper body to face them.

"What do you think, Sire?" I asked, uncertainly. "Worth a shot?"

"It can't hurt, my son," Tobius replied with a little more confidence. "If anyone can bring him back, it's you."

Blowing out a shaky breath, I nodded to Bobby. "So. How do we do this thing?"

Oh boy. I'd really let myself in for it.

Bobby tapped into my brain - I swear I saw a grimace or two cross his face - and used me to try getting through to Sam. As a regular interloper in Sam's head, the theory went that I wouldn't be seen as a threat, able to just walk right on in and, with Bobby's instruction, start flipping those switches again.

It was a phenomenal success. With just one complication.

Sam wouldn't… _couldn't _wake up.

Bobby assured us that given time, Sam's mind would relax and allow him to come back, but we just needed to be patient.

On the plus side, I was now able to communicate with him, and Tobius was finally allowed to get under the trap to insert an IV of nutrients into Sam's arm, but that was all.

_Sammy… we're gonna move you to the bedroom upstairs, ok? You'll be more comfortable._

_So __**cold**__ Dean… so tired…can't get out… need to get out…tired of fighting…_

Poor kid sounded scared half to death, and it took everything I had to keep from freaking out right along with him.

_Yeah, I know. But it's gonna be ok. I promise._

Jim and Tobius set about removing the chains, whilst I hovered nervously nearby holding onto a warm blanket. We were all thoroughly exhausted, but Bobby and Sam were the ones who'd suffered the most.

_There ya go. _I wrapped Sam up in the blanket, slid my arms round him and got to my feet. _Can you feel that Sam? That's me holding you. You're safe, ok? Just taking a little time out._

_Uhuh…_

_Sleep, kiddo. By the time you wake up, you'll be back._

But I could feel he'd already slipped away.

He remained in a weird kind of suspended sleep state for another twenty four hours, before showing signs of waking up. Tobius, Jim and Bobby described it as a coma, protecting him as he slept. Somehow, that wasn't exactly comforting.

But then, the hand I was holding on to suddenly twitched, springing me out of a light dose, and I sat up in my chair.

_Sam? You with me?_

His eyebrows dipped into a V for a moment, then smoothed out.

He was swaddled in thick blankets, one arm exposed with the IV still attached, head resting against his pillow and turned to the side, facing me.

"Sam? How ya feelin' dude?"

Sam's eyes snapped open, startling the hell outta me.

His pupils glowed deeply, the black band around the irises thickened and dense, more so than ever.

"I'm hungry," he whispered.

"Well, no problem then," I grinned at him, the relief immense when he grinned back. "Steak?"

"Uhuh," he nodded, tiredly.

"The usual?"

"Yep. Tartare style, baked potato," he slurred out. "And a glass of full cream milk."

I gently slapped his blanket covered thigh, feeling so happy I could've danced. "Coming right up!"

But before I could even lift my butt out of the chair, Tobius appeared in the doorway with a tray, the smells of raw meat and baked potato tantalising our nostril hairs.

Sire was smiling widely. "Heard your stomach from downstairs an hour ago," he moved into the room, kicking the door shut as he went, then put the tray down on the nightstand. "Thought we could all use some food."

"You thought right!" I exclaimed and picked up one of the plates, laying it in front of Sam. I made sure he got stuck into his food without too much trouble before even touching mine.

"So," Tobius sat down on the edge of Sam's bed and regarded his grandson. "You're looking remarkably well for someone who's just come out of a coma." He grinned.

Sam smiled shyly around a piece of chopped steak. "Uh… yeah. Better than I have for a long time, I think."

A small comfortable silence reigned whilst all three of us enjoyed our food, but it wasn't until I reached across the bed for my milk that I realised the glass wasn't there.

"What the…?"

It was hovering to the left of me.

"Here," Sam's eyes followed it as the glass glided smoothly through the air, and landed gently on the nearest night stand to me. "Thought you might want this."

Tobius and I stared at each other in shock.

_Huh. _I thought, my mind otherwise a blank.

_Huh, indeed. _Tobius responded, sounding equally dumbstruck.

So in spite of several hitches, such as Sammy nearly going feral, bleeding out of every orifice on his face, and dropping into a coma, Bobby's little hypnosis session had actually been successful.

It was lucky for me the kid played fair, 'cos if it had been _me_ with that freaky mojo, I'd have used it to have a little fun at his expense. Of course, it was early days yet.

But Sam wasn't yet ready to take his new found abilities out into the world. Bobby insisted on a timetable of scheduled trials, tasks and exercises.

One of which had Sam standing out in the yard, blindfolded, nose blocked up with cotton wool and his wrists tied in front of him. Somewhere out there, the long suffering Little Ted, Tobius' favourite training toy, was in hiding. Sam's task was to locate him, only using Tobius affection for the one eyed bear, and TK Ted gently on to his own shoulders. That wasn't something I envied him, not after the amount of times Ted had been rolled in bear or deer crap over the years.

If it sounds complicated, then that's because it is. Sam wasn't allowed to use the usual werewolf traits of smell, touch, or sight. He wasn't even allowed to move from his spot at the centre of the yard, and a set of heavy iron manacles round his ankles made sure of that.

Thought projections were out, and the only thing he had to go on was his grandfather's emotions.

Now this was a real challenge, 'cos if anyone was good at hiding his emotions, it was Tobius, and who wouldn't be after eight hundred years of practice?

Bobby checked the blindfold once more, stepped back, then blew his whistle to indicate the start of the exercise.

Sam just inclined his head immediately. "Can you get him off me, please? He's kinda damp. And I don't even _want_ to know why!"

Bobby's mouth fell open, and I just grinned. We hadn't even seen the bear move from its spot behind the grill of a clapped out truck on the far side of the yard.

Little Ted now sat on Sam's shoulder, resting against the side of the kid's head.

Incredible.

Tobius and Jim applauded loudly from the veranda.

"Uh… can you untie me now, please?" Sam murmured. "I'm starting to feel like a freak show."

But he sounded smug and pleased when he said it, and that made me feel all kinds of proud.

"Hmph." Bobby removed Sam's nostril pads, and folded his arms, grumpily. "Not so fast, kid. We ain't finished yet."

Sam sighed. "Ok. What next?"

Bobby appeared to think for a moment. "We've seen your speed, but just how heavy a weight can you lift with your mind?"

Sam appeared to concentrate. "Not sure. Lemme see."

I damn near swallowed my own tongue when I found myself floating upwards and drifting across the yard. "Sam, put me down right now! You know I'm scared of flying!"

"Just chill, dude," Sam responded with a smirk. The little shit was actually _laughing _at me. "I gotcha, ok? Just trust me. I won't let you fall, I promise."

I kicked my legs helplessly in mid air. There wasn't much I could say to that. I'd asked him to trust _me_, now it was time to return the favour. So I stopped struggling, stopped complaining… and closed my eyes instead.

But that wasn't much better 'cos now it felt like I was on a damn roller coaster with the lights turned off. My stomach didn't seem to enjoy the experience anymore than I did, because it began to churn and roll alarmingly.

"Alright, smartass," Bobby groused. "Put Dean down afore he honks, and try lifting a broken down digger…"

"You mean the one in the bottom left hand corner of the yard?" Sam interrupted him, cockily, just as he set me down gently beside Pastor Jim. I heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn't for long but it sure scared the hell out of me.

Bobby's mouth snapped shut for the merest fraction of a second. "Howdya know that?" he asked suspiciously.

"You were just thinking it," Sam announced, calmly.

The yard fell to a stony silence. Tumble weed rolled on by, and an elderly crow took off from the roof of the house, cawing down to us.

_Uh. Sammy? Please tell me you're joking?_

Thought projections are one thing, but I didn't want Sam crawling round in my head. There was way too much shit in there that I never wanted him to know about.

'_Course I am. I saw that old thing when we first arrived._ Sam laughed in my head. _I just thought it would fun to freak out the unfreakable Bobby Singer._

_Dude, _I laughed right back. _You are __**awesome**__._

Sam couldn't lift the digger, and he achieved a punishing migraine whenever he tried. He was forced to practice on smaller objects, such as Bobby's heavy old, solid oak rocking chair. Lifting me was out of bounds, though I could swear I woke up one night with my face plastered to the bedroom ceiling. Sam insisted it was just a bad dream brought on by one beer too many, but I know better. Kid's a hopeless liar, but it was the sound of sniggering muffled by a pillow that aroused my suspicions.

Tobius, of course, _loved_ being TK'd upwards. Said he admired the view or something, though he wasn't too amused when Sam set him down on the roof of Bobby's house and left him there. Naturally, Sire found a way down on his own, growling all kinds of threats in our heads, but Sam was nowhere to be found.

Later, I spied him in Bobby's library, wolfed out and curled up against his grandfather, snoozing peacefully on the sofa whilst Sire read from another Andy McNab masterpiece. That sure took me back to a time before a certain human hunter crept up on us and stole Sam away. We finally got Sam out of his clutches, but not before he took great delight in tormenting and torturing the poor kid with silver in some pretty horrific ways. That's a period of our history I would dearly love to forget, but that ain't ever happening. It's seared into my very heart and soul, and nothing can ever erase it.

But watching grandfather with his wolf-grandson, _right then?_ Sure warmed something deep inside me.

I guess they made it up.

No doubt with Tobius issuing a stern lecture about leaving an angry werewolf stranded on the roof. But Sammy's sure easy to forgive, huh?

Our entertainment, most evenings, was the 'guess the card' game. Tobius simply shuffled a deck of cards, and left them face down on the table with one hand perched on top.

"Three of clubs." Sam said at once.

Sire turned the card over, and smiled his approval.

"Seven of diamonds."

Another card was turned.

"That's the entire pack in under twenty eight seconds," I glanced up from my watch, smothering a proud grin, instead looking horrified. "Dude, that's just scary. You got every single one right." Shaking my head and letting out a breath, I leaned back on the sofa. "You realise the chances of that are… uh," I abandoned any attempt at mathematics, "…pretty damn small?"

Pastor Jim snorted from behind his newspaper. "You should get him to choose some lottery tickets," the Pastor suddenly glanced up, red faced, as though realising what he'd just said. "I didn't say that, right? That would be cheating. I don't condone cheating."

"Tell me that next time we play poker," Bobby grumbled. He was busy with an eye-piece, examining some kind of ancient looking parchment, but now he scowled over at his friend. "Lost over two hundred bucks to the cheatin' ol'coot!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bobby," Jim replied, innocently. "I won fair and square."

"Hurrmph!" Was all Bobby had to say on the matter.

Tobius, Sam and I just grinned.

_**Author's notes:**_

_**I am deeply grateful for all your wonderful reviews, and it's surely an honour to know that I've helped you feel a little better.**_

_**Having recently watched Abandon all Hope, may I say that no disrespect is meant to the Harvelle women in canon.**_

_**Jo and Ellen were a credit to Bill and the hunting community in general, and I'm sure they're as proud of them as we are. **_

_**Their sacrifice was truly brave and amazing, and I salute them.**_

_**I consider this episode a tribute to the real women who fought and died for us during both world wars, and the battles that followed.**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST x**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 5**

_**Now…**_

"**Have to admit, I was more than a little freaked out by Sam's powers," Dean's head is resting on his arms, eyes staring into the camera. A limp, pale hand is clutched tightly in one of his, thumb gently rubbing over a still knuckle. "He was getting good, but it was still hurting him and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I felt helpless and… **_**scared**_**. I toyed with the idea of forbidding him from using his skills, but figured that wouldn't work. What if the power built up whilst dormant, and broke out against his will? God only knows how that dangerous that could be. To Sam and those around him."**

**Dean's looking a little brighter, with a small, gentle smile on his face. In fact, the watcher may note there's a different feel to the atmosphere with this journal entry. It's lighter; perhaps the correct word is **_**hopeful.**_

"**We think Sam's fever is breaking, that maybe he's getting better," a small yawn interrupts Dean's speech and splits his handsome face wide open; though it's obvious he's trying to keep it quiet.**

"**I heard that!" a familiar voice calls out from across the room.**

**Dean sighs. "I slept, ok? I got four hours last night!"**

"**Try one," Tobius is now standing over him, arms folded across his chest. "You tossed and turned for the first three. **_**And **_**you need to change…"**

"**I changed yesterday!"**

"**You stayed in the room and curled up on the bed next to Sam."**

"**So? That counts!"**

"**Dean, you need fresh air," Tobius answers calmly. "And your son will need fresh meat when he wakes up." As if to compound his point, he adds "I'll keep a close eye on Sam."**

**Dean pauses to consider that. "Yeah, alright. But just let me get this journal entry done, ok? Then I'm gone."**

**Tobius studies him with narrowed eyes. "Very well. In the meantime, I'll be on patrol. Just call when you're ready."**

**With a comforting squeeze to Dean's shoulder, a gentle kiss to Sam's forehead, he sheds his clothes, changes, and leaves the room.**

"**He's hoping a night's hunting will help me sleep better." Dean smiles fondly after the retreating wolf. "Hell! Maybe he's right! As for fresh meat, I've kinda left all that to Tobius. He's been pretty tolerant about that. He knows I just don't wanna leave my son." He huffs, miserably. "I hate hunting without Sam. But Sire's right. I do need to get out there."**

**Dean stares into the lens. "So, as I was saying…"**

_**Then…**_

By unanimous agreement necromancy was kept out of Sam's training syllabus. The kid wasn't the only one who shuddered at the thought of raising the dead, and besides, like we weren't opening a tricky enough can of worms already. Last thing we needed was a bunch of lame ass zombies stumbling round the place, and bitching about how they were too young to die, or their lives were so sad, they felt lost, nobody loved them… _get over it already! Move the fuck on!_

There wasn't much necromancy could be used for anyhow, and it certainly wasn't a weapon. In fact, its main purpose is acquiring knowledge, but it strongly depends on tuning in and finding the right spirit. And we just didn't have the time.

Electrokinesis, as it turned out, the art of electrocution by touch, was another trait that was quickly crossed off the list. Whatever switches were needed to bring it on, Sam just didn't have them.

Between you and me, I was kind of pleased about that. Not that I thought Sam would deliberately hurt anyone, but from what he told me of Scott Carey, the special kid with Electrokinesis, it wasn't something that was easy to control, particularly if the user was under stress.

In fact, Sam also looked a little relieved. Maybe it was better to keep it simple and just stick with the visions and TK.

Simple...

_Right._

Kid was getting restless. Hell, we were _all _getting restless. Two weeks later and Bobby still wasn't happy about sending us out there to essentially bring on a major fight. But, as Tobius pointed out, time wasn't on our side. In spite of the newly devised wards and cloaking spells Bobby had placed around the perimeter, the yard still wasn't safe. If Meg, or whoever the hell she really was, decided to swing by and check the place out again, it wouldn't take the bitch long to figure out we were here. Sam's TK skills were good, but whether or not they were yet good enough to take on a demon, and possibly some pretty powerful kids, no one could say.

I guess no one really wanted to find out.

It was made painstakingly clear to us by Bobby and Pastor Jim that Sam should _not_, under any circumstances, use his abilities to lure the other kids into a trap. If he called to one then there was a good chance he'd invite them all, which was kind of what we were hoping to avoid.

All that was required was to observe them.

We were to use Sam's skills to track the enemy, hunt them down one by one, and disable them. To accomplish this, we would carry on as normal, a family of hunters, seeking out strays and protecting humans. But at the same time we would be on our guard. At some point we were bound to run into Meg, but with caution, stealth, and a good portion of luck, we aimed to avoid that particular confrontation for as long as possible. If she showed up too early, with a cohort of psychics at her command, it would be over for us.

Discreetly taking them down one at a time would help to even the odds a little, because right then, the other side held all the aces.

Fortunately, there was one person they didn't know enough about.

Lieutenant Colonel Tobius Le Salle, former Commanding Officer of the 22nd Regiment, Special Air Service, hadn't seen _official _action since the '60s, but the guy still lived by the Regiment's motto _Who Dares Wins._ Before rising quickly through the ranks, Sire was one of the best assassins in British Special Forces, known for his stealth, patience, speed of attack and execution.

He summed it up nicely for us one evening after dinner.

"You go in, keep your head down, double tap to the back of the head, you get out. No messing about, no survivors, no prisoners."

But the whole 'patience' thing was bugging me a little. "Uh… Sammy and me… patience ain't exactly our best suit."

Tobius had smiled faintly, eyes gleaming with intent. "Then it's high time it was."

He'd described in brief detail a particular mission whereby he was forced to wait in freezing cold conditions for seven hours. His target, unbeknownst to Tobius, had taken a detour to the theatre before stumbling home drunk in the early hours of the morning.

Yeah. Intel's a real bitch.

Aborting the mission wasn't an option. The area around the target's house was under constant surveillance by his home security team, and Tobius had a hard enough time getting in. Kitten crawling through mud and snow, sometimes through ditches of freezing water, couldn't have been fun only to find your mission objective was busy getting hammered fifty miles away.

In the end, the guy's inebriation had worked in Sire's favour.

Hours later, he passed out cold on the lounge floor in full view of the large bay windows. Tobius hadn't even needed to leave his observation post. He'd spied his objective through the cross hairs of his sniper's scope, squeezed the trigger, and ruthlessly taken down his target. A mere hole in the window was the only evidence that someone had been on the premises.

Aside from the body on the floor of the lounge with a hole in its head, that is.

Before you gasp in horror, just let me make one thing plain.

Tobius is a killer.

And a damn lethal one at that.

I've never lied to you about it, and neither has he.

If it makes you feel any better, the target was heavily involved in terrorism, child slavery and prostitution, but it was his dealings in illegal narcotics that really amassed his fortune.

Think of it this way. Tobius is the same even now.

There's a difference between a professional government assassin and a _brutal _killer.

He ain't Manson and he sure as hell ain't Jack the Ripper.

But he is, now, a hunter of strays, the shadowy wolves that skirt the edges of society, feeding on the young and weak, taking what they want, when they want, with complete disregard for the law.

Sound familiar? Sound almost _human, _does it?

Yeah, werewolves and humans have a lot in common.

For example, imagine a cocktail evening with wine and soft music. They watch and wait, skilfully assessing every single occupant of the room, before making their choice. They then charm their way in, subtly segregating their victim from the rest of the group, perhaps onto the balcony, or in the garden. Once the poor sap falls into a false sense of security, the stray attacks quickly, without mercy, and disappears long before the victim is found torn to pieces, and the screaming starts.

Human law cannot touch these beings, because human law holds no precedence for them. The simple reason being, you can't arrest something you don't believe in.

That's where we come in.

Just because there's no _human _law, doesn't mean to say there's no law at all.

So who better than a non-lunar to uphold the _word_ of that law?

Who better than someone who knows how a true killer thinks?

Sammy and I have taken down our fair share of strays over the years, but Tobius is different even from us, age difference aside. We've always known it, and disturbing as it might be, that fact has kept us alive up to now.

We were about to rely on that fact once again.

The training Sam went through brought with it some up _and_ downsides. The upside being, visions no longer came to him sporadically through his dreams. With concentrating his mind hard on some of the special kids he'd met already, Sam was able to trigger a response.

That wasn't as simple as it sounded. It took one hell of an effort on Sam's part, and the first few times he tried it he passed out from the pain and woke up with no memory of what he'd seen. The visions didn't just saunter into his head at will. Once he flipped the switch, it lit a fuse which in turn set off around a hundred pounds of semtex, nearly blowing his brains out.

Or, at least, that's the way it seemed to me when Sam gasped, then _screamed_ in pain, and blood _poured_ from his nose. I almost felt relieved for the poor kid when he fainted but, apparently, loss of consciousness didn't mean the pain let up. Just the opposite.

But he kept trying.

_Sammy?_

I caught him before he hit the floor, whilst Sire held a cool, damp wash cloth under Sam's nose and gently rubbed his back.

I glanced up at Tobius when there was no response.

Sire just nodded. _Give him time. Bobby said this could happen until he gets stronger._

_Don't make it any easier to watch. I hate that he has to go through this. _I shifted my weight and cupped the back of Sam's neck, supporting his lolling head.

_I know, Dean, _Tobius frowned in sympathy. _I don't like it any more than you do, but the more he tries it the less painful it will be._

Bobby was currently on a supply run with Pastor Jim, whilst Sam practiced the next stage of his abilities. But the men had left us with strict instructions to watch Sam carefully for any reactions to the visions.

_Reactions?_ That was one way of putting it.

"Nnuuugggghhh…" A soft, pained moan came from right by my shoulder. "God! That hurt!"

Tobius raised an eyebrow, and grinned. "At least he comes round quickly now. That's a relief."

"How, exactly," Sam muttered, blinking heavily and shaking his head gently, "is that a 'relief'?"

"Because the last thing we need," I replied, picking up on what Sire was getting at "is an unconscious werewolf in a hairy situation." Grinning at the indignant expression on Sam's face, I added shamelessly "Pardon the pun."

"Thanks for your concern," he grouched good-naturedly, but winced and held a hand to his temple. "Ow."

My grin fell away instantly. "Seriously, though. You ok, Sam?"

Sam nodded slowly and squinted as though the light hurt his eyes. Sire immediately took note and got up to draw the curtains shut.

"It won't always hurt, Sam," said Tobius, softly. "Remember your first change?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "How could I forget? Felt like my entire body was being ripped apart!"

Sire grinned at that, crossed the room again and patted Sam on the shoulder. "But now?"

The kid frowned. "I guess… I don't notice it anymore."

Tobius nodded, approvingly. "Exactly. It's just a part of the furniture. And this is just the same."

Someone knocked softly on the door.

"How's it going in there? Sam ok?"

"C'mon in, Bobby," I called. "Sam's fine. Bleeding all over your carpet again, but fine nonetheless."

Bobby entered the room, followed by Pastor Jim, and smiled sympathetically at Sam. "Rough going, huh?"

"Yeah," Sam sniffed and took the wash cloth from Sire to dab at his upper lip. "You could say that. Much more of this and I'm gonna need a transfusion."

"Sorry, kid," our old friend muttered, sadly.

Sam gazed up at him with a slight smile and a quizzical frown. "It's ok, Bobby, s'not your fault." He shrugged casually. "I'll get used to it."

But Sam obviously felt it was time to get down to the nitty-gritty. He gently pulled away from me, sat down on a chair and leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped between them. Eyes glowing with urgency, he took charge of the conversation and steered it back on track.

"You guys need to know what I saw…"

The vision had been short and to the point. It showed Sam a face, a street name, and a young girl being brutally murdered with a meat cleaver. He didn't recognise the girl, but the face he saw _before_ the attack, sure seemed familiar to him.

Andy Gallagher, Sam assured us, was no murderer. But we'd all seen the look on Sire's face, the cold professional taking over, and issuing a silent death warrant.

Sam protested hotly, of course. It hadn't really occurred to him that 'disabling' the special children meant _killing_ them.

Tobius wasn't prepared to take any chances, and I had to agree. It wasn't worth the risk of letting this Andy kid roam around, possibly developing his TK powers and cutting up anyone he chose.

But there in lie the crux of the matter. We had nothing more than Sam's vision to go on. Technically, as Jim and Bobby pointed out, Andy was innocent if the vision hadn't yet come to pass.

Then Sam pointed out something else. "I didn't actually see Andy wielding the blade in my vision. I only saw the attack from the killer's perspective, and there was no way to tell if it even _was _Andy."

It was open to debate, and that's where things got a little out of hand.

Thirty minutes later, we were all arguing at cross purposes, voices raised and trying to air our own views. It was beyond stupid, because by that point no one was actually _listening_.

Suddenly, a low commanding voice hissed out.

"_Enough!"_

Tobius was standing up straight, arms folded, and feet shoulder width apart. It occurred to me in that moment that not everyone, in fact, had been scrambling to speak their peace. Sire was the only one amongst us who _hadn't _been arguing. He'd just kept silent, watching, _studying_. We hadn't even remembered he was there until he commanded our attention.

As the room fell silent, the werewolf regarded each one of us in turn, eyebrows pulled down over glowing green eyes, looking every inch the senior SAS officer he'd once been. Even Bobby and the Pastor, to my amusement, seemed to squirm under that intense stare.

"Now," said Tobius, his tone suggesting that anymore bickering would not be tolerated. "Perhaps we would make better headway by actually _discussing _Sam's vision." He shook his head, still frowning. "Please note that this is a serious situation, and not a United Nations summit where the only difficult decision actually agreed upon is _what to have for lunch!_"

There were several sheepish grins and some shaking of heads. Trust Tobius to say exactly what he thinks.

Sire nodded; obviously happy he had everyone's attention, then sat down in front of Sam.

"I understand where you're coming from, young pup," he said, softly. "But these people are highly dangerous, not just to us, but to all humans. We have no idea what Azazel has planned for the future, but I'm willing to bet the human world would suffer greatly if he gets his way. And so will ours."

Sam sighed. "I know. But…" he shook his head, and I noticed his stubbornly clenched jaw. Tobius wasn't going to win this one. "Andy Gallagher's a good kid. He may have been chosen like the rest of us, but he hasn't used it for anything bad. He's not hurt anyone."

"For now," I put in, and hated the look of sheer misery that crossed his face. "Sam, all I'm sayin' is, can you be absolutely sure about him?"

Sam answered immediately. "There isn't a bad bone in his body."

We all shared a glance, but it was Tobius who made the decision.

"In that case, I'll defer to your judgment," Sire eyed him carefully. "But know this, Sam. If he so much as _looks_ at you in what we consider to be a _threatening _manner…" he paused, still watching Sam's face. "And I _will _take him out. No questions asked."

So, I guess we were going to pay Andy Gallagher a visit.

Two days later found Sam and me in an unfamiliar town whilst Tobius took up 'sentry duty' as he put it. As cautious as ever, Sire had set up his OP, or observation post, somewhere nearby after Sam had begged him to stand down. Kid didn't want Andy scared off by the 'Tobius Scowl' and, so, with a philosophical shrug, and having taken no offence, Sire had bowed out and left us to it. But he absolutely refused to tell us where he was holed up. It would have to be enough to hear his thoughts.

Sounds a little over the top, I know, but frankly I was just grateful for the extra protection. I didn't trust this Andy Gallagher anymore than Sire did.

It was a dark, moonless night, and the only thing that stopped the temperature from plummeting were the heavy rain clouds that smothered the stars.

"This is it," Sam indicated the sign post under a dull street lamp. "This was the street in my vision."

I read the name.

Shaftsbury Avenue.

"Where the murder takes place?" I asked, quietly, though there appeared to be no one within earshot. There weren't many houses along the avenue, in fact. It was a pretty rural area, with the neighbours spaced about a mile apart. So, any screaming would mostly go unheard, assuming the victim got the chance…

"Uhuh," Sam answered nervously, and with good reason, as it turned out.

We could feel the growing tense excitement in the air; smell the fear and frustration, the heady scent of fresh blood, and hear the sounds of voices shouting urgently in the distance. The road made a bend to the left, and as we followed it round, it soon became apparent what all the fuss was about.

Patrol cars lined the sidewalk, parked at odd angles as though the drivers had abandoned their vehicles in a hurry. Red lights flashed, illuminating the dark night, and even reflecting off the low clouds. But it was the body bag being loaded into the back of the Coroner's car that caught our attention, along with the trail of dark red blood that followed it.

_Boys, _Sire was obviously watching, wherever he was. _Stay out of sight, but listen and observe._

I pulled Sammy back behind a large conifer. One glance at him told me he knew.

_I guess that means it's already happened. _Sam murmured in my head.

I nodded, and noted the sadness and worry on the kid's face. _Yeah. But it ain't your fault, ok? We got here as fast as we could._

He just shook his head, shoulders slumped in misery.

There was time for comfort later. Right now we had a job to do.

So we listened, and watched…

"What do we have here, Chief?"

Chief sighed and ran a hand through whatever was left of his hair. I felt fairly confident that by the end of the night, he'd be bald as a coot.

"Got an anonymous tip off 'bout an hour ago. Homicide, young woman in her early twenties, hacked to pieces," he held up a vicious looking meat cleaver in an evidence bag, still dripping with blood. "The killer used this."

"Motive?" asked his colleague.

"None so far, but there was someone else here, besides the victim and the perp. We found another set of footprints in the victim's blood."

"Boyfriend?"

The Chief nodded. "Name's Andrew Gallagher. I got people trying to track him down as we speak, but it ain't easy. Kid's a drifter, with no known address except when he swings by to visit his girl."

The two men fell silent and watched the forensics team sweep the area with a fine tooth comb. Voices were kept at a respectable volume, quiet murmurs and mutterings between the officers as various data were collected, bagged and catalogued.

"I'll tell ya, though," the Chief announced, suddenly, his tone sending a small shiver down my spine. "I ain't never seen anything like this before, not round here. Back in the city, maybe…" he glanced at the meat cleaver again, eyes narrowed, and whispered "He's strong as hell."

The other guy frowned. "Huh? Well… yeah, but that cleaver looks pretty sharp, Chief…"

"That's not what I meant." The Chief interrupted him, his voice low and soft. "Yeah, she was hacked to pieces. He used the cleaver to cut off her _limbs_…" he nodded to the next bag being brought out of the house. It was small, rounded, about the right shape for a… "But it looked to me like he ripped her head off with his bare hands. We found it on the other side of the room, under the coffee table."

The other man tried to stifle a gasp. "_Jesus!_"

The Chief, judging by the crucifix he wore was a God-fearing man, smiled grimly. "I doubt _He's _got anything to do with this."

Sam shuddered and sank back against the tree trunk. He was shaking his head and panting heavily. The blood draining away from his face suggested he was going into shock, and for a moment there I thought he was gonna pass out on me.

_Sammy? _I grabbed his shirt and held him up, just as his knees gave way. This wasn't the result of a weak stomach. Nah. This was a case for the Sammy Guilt Factor. _Hey! C'mon, dude, look at me… Sam? Breathe easy now…_

_Dean…_ he clutched at my arm, fingers twisting in the sleeve, his body trembling harshly. _Oh my God…_

_Easy now, _I pushed him down until he was seated with his back against the tree, and held his head between his knees. _S'not your fault, Sam. Ok? Understand me?_

_Dean! Heads-up…_ Sire called softly. _Company…_

I cocked my head to the side and nodded. Approaching footsteps from the crime scene sounded loudly on the road.

_C'mon, kid. Time to make tracks. We can't afford to be found near a murder scene this time of night._

Sam, God love 'im, quickly pulled himself together, and nodded.

_Atta boy._

The two of us got to our feet, and slipped silently away into the night.

Kid remained quiet all the way back to our motel room. As soon as I got the door unlocked, he stumbled across the carpet and into the bathroom. He didn't even waste time closing the door for the sake of privacy, just leaned over the toilet bowl, and threw up. And kept on throwing up, even as he sank to his knees on the cold tiled floor.

There wasn't much I could do for him. Just grabbed a washcloth, ran it under the cold tap, and pressed it over his clammy forehead. Sam, having emptied his gut, retched violently for several long minutes, the tears rolling down his face soaking his shirt, whilst I rubbed his back and murmured softly to him.

_S'not your fault, kiddo. We couldn't have gotten here any faster, _I whispered over and over again, in the hope that some of it might stick long enough in his mind to persuade him.

The motel room door clicked quietly open and a cold draught swept the room before cutting off when Sire closed it behind him. He eyed us with concern.

_You boys ok? _Tobius asked as he took off his woollen coat and laid it carefully over an armchair by the window.

I offered a weak smile and shrugged. _As well as could be expected._

Tobius nodded solemnly, and began removing his clothes. With a casual yawn and a stretch, he changed and padded over to us, his sharp claws clicking on the bathroom tiles.

_Dean, if you wouldn't mind fetching the brandy…?_

I nodded, patted Sam on the shoulder, and reluctantly left the bathroom.

When I returned with a half-filled tumbler, Tobius was sitting in front of Sam, his snout gently nudging the kid's chin up.

_Sam… child, look at me…_

Sam let the huge wolf raise his tear-stained face, and sniffed miserably. I realised at that point he hadn't said a word since he'd nearly passed out, back on the road. Reaching forward, I pressed the glass into his trembling hands.

_Go ahead, Sam._

Sam obediently took a small sip of brandy, and the effect was immediate. His whole body seemed to relax a little, his breathing somewhat calmer.

Tobius licked away some of the tears, and sat back, staring deep into the boy's eyes.

_You're allowed to be angry, young pup._ Tobius gently pawed at one of Sam's knees. _And you're allowed to accept __**some**__ responsibility for what happened, for that is the nature of what we do. But don't try to shoulder the entire burden alone. That will only break you. You are not to blame._

Sam shook his head _Then what? That girl died, and I did nothing to stop it…_

_You tried, Sam. But, perhaps, _Sire stared hard at the kid. _You weren't meant to._

Even I felt a jolt of surprise at that. _What?_

_This whole charade, _Tobius lifted his head, his large snout sweeping round the room, _was designed to bring you down, Sam. To demoralise and bury you in your own guilt._

The wolf regarded the youngster. _And it's working. _He paused, then said pointedly, _Isn't it?_

His voice in our heads was soft but menacing, sending chills scurrying up and down our spines.

Sire crept forward and pressed his snout to Sam's ear, huffing gently.

_There will likely be many more innocent deaths before this is over, Sam, for that is the nature of __**war**__._

He stepped back again, head held high, ears tall and straight. _And there are no two ways about it, this __**is **__war. We do what we can, save as many as possible, and hope that one day it'll be worth the price we __**all**__ paid._

Sire sure has a way with words, which was why I had no objections when Tobius took over and offered Sam his counsel. I couldn't have put it better myself.

Sam dropped his chin, hair falling over his face and hiding him from us. We waited for his response, knowing it wouldn't be easy for him, but praying for his acceptance.

Fact is, Tobius is _right. _

In an ideal world, we'd all be the best of friends, no one would get hurt, or die, or kill, or have to go to war to protect that which we hold dear. Sammy, unfortunately, still lives with the dream that one day the world would be at peace, filled with love and blue birds and flowers, probably with puppies and kittens playing together in sunlit meadows.

I sound harsh.

I don't mean to.

It's a wonderful idea and no one could wish for it as much as I do but, like Sire, I'm a realist. Humans are animals at the end of the day.

Very _intelligent _animals, admittedly, but still with the good old fashioned primal animal instincts.

Hunting, killing, protecting, feeding, fighting, and fucking.

Bluntly put, but true. And you know it.

Dress up in fancy Armani suits, with Italian leather shoes, and hold your wine glass correctly, making factual conversation with some limp wristed prick with more money than sense about share prices, and who will be the next president… but you can't hide what you really are.

At least, not from us.

You also know that you guys are territorial as hell, and that's a big part of the world's problem, right? And it's probably a trait you inherited from the likes of us.

Now, you can repress all those instincts as much as you want, shoe horn them into some daydream semblance of _civilised behaviour_, and pretend you're different from the rest of the animal kingdom, but the plain fact of the matter is, you're only making things worse for yourselves.

'Cos something's gotta give.

Sire once described it like a volcano; for years it sits, seemingly dormant, but something is building up inside, hot, pulsing, _angry. _It has to relieve the pressure every now and then, so it blows it top, causing devastation and destruction for miles around, scattering hot ash and spilling lava, releasing all the crap that's built up from years of repression. When it's fulfilled its task, it settles back down for another long sleep… until the next time.

War is kinda like that for you humans, I guess. At least, that's the way werewolves see it.

War is the volcano of the human psyche. You guys have got millions of years of primal instinct working against you and your _civilised _ideals. And that's just for starters.

Then you add an extra few ingredients into the already boiling, swirling, gut churning mix: religion, racial hatred, greed, cruelty, revenge, and that good ol' classic _politics_ – probably the most lethal of all, and likely encompasses _everything_ that's evil and slimy in the world. Suddenly, you have all the excuses in the world to hurt each other.

So in the face of all that, can you look at yourself in the mirror, and see an end to it all?

Or would you dig deep, face reality, and honestly accept that the concept of 'world peace' is little more than a pipedream?

No? Didn't think so. And if it's any consolation, I don't really blame you.

'Cos whilst Sammy was kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, tears drying on his face, I could still see that _light _in his eyes. And it's that same _light_ I see in you humans, that keeps you going, that amazing final _instinct_, the one that forms the basis of your determination and humanity.

Hope.

And no. I can't take that away from Sammy, at least, not just yet. No doubt that'll come later, but for now I have to let him believe.

But in the meantime...

Sam finally raised his head and nodded, sadly, but I held my breath awaiting his decision. As always, he didn't disappoint us.

_We do what we can._


	6. Chapter 6

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter rising.**

**Chapter 6**

_**Now…**_

**A large black and tan wolf is stretched out on the bed next to Sam, snout resting on its huge paws. Suddenly, it raises its massive, lion-sized head, and stares intently at the kid's pale face. With a soft whine, it nuzzles gently into the boy's neck.**

**Scuffling from off camera, and a small **_**thump**_**, followed by an "Ow! Sonofabitch!" precedes Dean with a towel slung dangerously low on his hips, water dripping from his hair, and hopping on one foot towards the bed.**

"**Is he really waking up?" he asks of the wolf, who is now hovering over the bed ridden boy, whining anxiously. "I mean… has he moved?"**

**The wolf jumps off the bed, mostly disappearing from shot. Its tall ears and the thick fur on its head can still be seen, clashing with the brightly coloured bedspread… and they suddenly **_**shrink.**_

**There's a **_**grunt**_**, a **_**snort, **_**and a moment later, **_**human **_**Tobius rises to his full height, pulling a tee-shirt over his head.**

"**I heard him," he nods. "It was faint, but there. He's in a great deal of pain and confusion still, but he's with us. Give him another few days and he'll be fully awake."**

**Dean's perched on the edge of the bed with Sam's half-curled human form in his lap by the time he replies.**

"**What…?" he nearly chokes on the question, but tries again. "What about permanent damage?**

**Tobius shakes his head. "I don't know, Dean. We'll have to wait and see."**

**With one hand gently wound in Sam's hair, and the other supporting his neck, Dean smiles through fresh tears. "You're coming back to us. Knew you would," he whispers, turns he face to the camera, and nods determinedly. "He's gonna be ok. **

_**Then…**_

_C'mon Sammy,_ I paced forward and wrapped an arm round his shoulders. _You'll be more comfortable sitting on the bed, huh? Let's get out of the bathroom, 'cos man! It smells like someone's been sick in here!_

To his credit, Sam let out a watery snort of laughter, and allowed me to pull him to his feet.

Tobius followed us out of the bathroom, jumped up onto Sam's bed, and began trampling the blankets into submission. Round and round he went, until he was satisfied the bed wouldn't fight back, then he slumped down, rolled a few times just to be sure, and curled up comfortably, waiting for his grandson to join him. Tobius rested his head on his paws, tongue lolling out over his chops in contentment, keen, mournful eyes watching us.

Fully clothed, and with the first signs of a genuine grin developing, Sam sat down, still clutching his glass of brandy, and leaned against the older wolf.

Knowing Sire would want a nightcap too, I grabbed the bottle of brandy and poured some into a dog bowl we often keep with us on our travels – it comes in handy when persuading the public that _him? Naw, he's not a wolf. Just a dog. A __**big**__ fucking dog, I'll grant you, but he's still just a dog. Ain't that right, Fido?_ – and placed it between Sire's massive paws.

_Many thanks, my son._

_Don't mention it._

With a generous measure for myself, I perched on the bed opposite, leaned forward, and rested my elbows on my knees.

_So. What now?_

Tobius lapped at the brandy with his long tongue, but his eyes remained fixed on Sam.

_Good question._

The youngster tensed up a little under the scrutiny and glanced mournfully at me.

_Do we have to talk about this now?_

I nodded but smiled in sympathy. _'Fraid so, kid._

Sam bit his lip and took a deep breath. Once again, I could almost _see_ the change in him, as he gave his emotional side a good, hard shove into the background, and let his brilliant analytical mind step forward in its place.

"I'm recalling that conversation we overheard, what the chief said about there being someone else there other than the victim and the killer."

Yeah. _That _statement sure opened a few doors.

"Ok," I shrugged, interested in what Sam had to say about it.

"Well, I don't know about you guys," Sam continued, thoughtfully. "But I got the distinct impression the cops don't believe Andy's responsible. But they _do_ think he's a witness."

Tobius' tail thumped against the bed. _Exactly. And that's speaks volumes about the evidence, yes?_

"True," I said aloud. "They don't think he's strong enough to have pulled it off…" I grimaced a little when Sam flinched. _Sorry, dude. No pun intended._

Sam just smirked and shook his head in wry amusement.

"So, are we thinking our very own incredible hulk is in the picture here?" I asked, eyes swivelling from Tobius to Sam.

_I'd say so,_ Tobius scratched at an ear with a hind paw. _Which means this assignment has just been upped from mild-risk status, to highly dangerous. We'll have to tread carefully around this one._

"And there's another thing," I pointed out. "We now have to get to Andy before the hulk does. Place him under our protection, may be."

_Not necessarily. _Tobius mused. _Whilst it would be useful to speak with the boy, I doubt he's in any immediate danger. At least, not until __**we **__show up, which is the point of all this._

Yeah. Sam was being deliberately lured into the firing line, but with careful preparation we could stay out of sight. After all, the hulk may have been strong but he didn't have our sense of smell and, to our knowledge, he couldn't hear our thought projections.

"So here's the deal," Sam got to his feet and placed the tumbler of brandy on the nearest night stand. "I change, go back to the crime scene, pick up Andy's scent and follow it."

Great plan. Couldn't fault it, in fact. Except…

"You're not going, Sam," I announced, tone a little more sharp than I intended. "Tobius or I can find him, it's too dangerous…"

He was already shaking his head, and damn the kid! His logic was faultless.

"You don't know his scent, and you're a complete stranger to him," Sam responded, a little _too _smug for my liking. "Andy won't trust you, he'll just run."

_And we can catch him! _Tobius growled, eyes narrowed determinedly.

"Oh yeah!" Sam tucked long fingers into his jean belt loops, stance deceptively relaxed and casual, but his eyes gleamed with sass and sarcasm. "Sure, frighten the shit out of the poor guy. _That'll_ make him cooperate with us."

I barely stifled a snort of laughter. _This_ sounded like fun.

Tobius growled softly. _Over play your hand any further, young pup, and you'll soon find out that you're not too big for a take down!_

Sam smirked but backed down, gracefully. Even my rebellious son still knew better than to go head to head with the pack alpha.

_However, _Sire went on to prove that Sam had made some valid points. Never let it be said that Tobius couldn't be reasoned with.

_You're quite right. All three of us will follow his trail. _Then he said something that completely took us by surprise. _I'll stay behind in the Impala and keep an eye out. That way your clothes will be on hand when you eventually find him._

That was another good point. Andy Gallagher would likely crap his pants if he opened his door to three huge wolves. Human form would prove better in this instance.

Tobius leapt off the bed, changed, and slipped back into his clothes.

"Right. Hurry up lads," he rubbed his hands together, almost gleefully. Sire enjoyed a good hunt, _whatever_ the circumstances. "Time to change!"

He pulled a couple of dog leashes out of his duffle, and we soon got the message.

This would be the undercover scenario known as 'guy taking his dogs out for a late night stroll'.

Sam and I kicked off our boots, pulled off our clothes, and were soon padding to the door. Because it was an actual _hunt _rather than a mere fact gathering mission, Tobius dispensed with the idea of wearing collars, and went straight for the choker leads. It made us shudder at the thought, but Sire was always overly-gentle with us, and never once yanked on our leashes. And besides, there was good justification for them.

So there we were, two big dogs, trotting faithfully alongside our 'master'. Whenever we played this in daylight, we were subject to admiring glances and occasional gentle pats on the head and ruffled ears, whilst Tobius walked away with no small collection of phone numbers from pretty female admirers.

Gotta say. Guy's a smooth bastard.

At night, however, it would be a different matter. The few people we might meet would back off, maybe even run away screaming at the sight of huge wolf-like dogs with gleaming eyes and sharp fangs. And Tobius could work that to our advantage.

Shaftsbury Avenue loomed ahead of us, and I felt Sam falter. Tobius also sensed his reluctance because he slowed his pace a little.

_You ok there, pup? We don't have to do this, you know. It can wait 'til morning._

Sam gave himself a sudden shake from head to tail, and growled softly.

_Yes we do. There's no other way, and Andy's running out of time._

Once we passed round the bend in the road, and ascertained that there was indeed still a police presence, we began our well-rehearsed routine.

Sam began jumping and snapping at the leash, trying to bite his way to freedom. For my part, I ran around, attempting to trip our 'master' and barking my head off.

It worked beautifully as always. A young uniformed cop, standing outside the house glanced over at us. I saw his hand go to the police issue revolver at his hip, and unsnap the leather strap.

"Excuse me, sir? You live around here?" the young guy called out, warily.

_He seems friendly enough,_ Tobius told us. _A little too keen for his own good perhaps, but he'll learn._

"Good evening, officer!" He said aloud, in a boisterous upper class English accent, then glanced at his Rolex and tutted. "I mean… good _morning_! And yes, I live a few blocks over. Just out to take in some fresh air, and…" he scowled good naturedly, when Sam attempted to launch himself at the police officer. "Down boy!" Tobius' chuckle was genuine. Sam seemed to have quite the natural talent for being the troublesome 'dog'.

"Sorry about that," Sire grinned when the young cop backed off slightly. "They won't hurt you, they're just curious."

The cop frowned. "Curious? About what?"

Tobius blinked in innocent surprise. "Why, the police of course. They've never seen all these flashing lights before, and are naturally a little unsettled by it… _Samuel! Heel!" _He snapped out suddenly, when Sam made another lunge, and nearly choked himself on the leash.

_Sam calm down. _I huffed, and pranced about in a show of skittishness. _You're gonna hurt yourself!_

_Sorry. But I've picked up Andy's scent…_

_That's all well and good, but a little patience won't go amiss, young pup! _Tobius admonished. _Now settle down, and wait for the signal._

"Do excuse these two scallywags," Tobius rolled his eyes. "They're both young and energetic, and need _so_ much exercise. Frankly, it's exhausting, but the wife..." he shrugged, demurely. "She loves them..."

The cop was beginning to relax a little under the steady influence of Sire's friendly and easy going countenance. "I know what you mean. I got a young Golden Retriever at home. Chews up anything it sees, and drives my wife crazy, but he's a good dog besides that."

"Very Marley and Me, eh?" Tobius nodded enthusiastically. _Get ready, boys. _"Oh indeed! These two have been restless all night, so for the sake of peace and quiet, in the end I had to take them out for a walk, just to burn off some of that _energy_…"

And that was the signal. With loud barks and howls, Sam and I jerked on the leashes, supposedly taking Tobius by surprise enough that the chokers loosened, and we slipped free.

"Samuel! Dean! Get back here now, you bloody useless animals!" Tobius roared out. _Good work, lads._

We were off, Sam slightly ahead of me and I happily let him take the lead. After all, as he quite rightly pointed out, he alone knew Andy's scent.

In the meantime, Tobius was busy putting on an impressive act of angry panicking, and gesticulating wildly in that very British way of his. At this stage of the plan, he would tell the cop that he was heading home to get his car, and embark on a 'dog search' of the area. Sire would probably finish up with 'I'll soon catch up with those two rascals' or 'they'll come home when they're hungry'.

We circled the house, sniffing round the back gate, a tall dark wooden affair with a bronze latch. The plan was not to go inside, that would only risk capture by the cops, but to find out where Andy was heading once he'd left the building.

_There! You get it? Right there! _Sam snuffled excitedly at the base of the garden gate. _He was leaving…_ he lifted his head, and turned, staring into a small group of trees at the rear of the house. Tilting his head to the side, he studied the area for a long while. _I can see him, now. He was scared… terrified… running for his life, almost tripping over… there was someone after him… but whoever it was had covered their scent._

There was indeed a faint whiff of some kind of herbal mixture in the air, with no epicentre to it, and therefore no way of tracking it.

_It… _was just… _there, _hanging around like a red herring.

That confirmed the suspicion that this was all a set up, that hulk-man wasn't serious about chasing Andy. He was just letting the kid leave a trail that we _could_ follow. And we'd have to be quick about catching up with Gallagher, 'cos there was a strong chance that wherever he was right then, the hulk wasn't far away.

_C'mon, this way,_ Sam nudged against me, and bounded towards the trees.

Now that I had the scent I could see where this was leading. There was a large wire fence, separating the trees from a winding path. Andy would've had to climb over, but it offered no such problem for us. We both cleared the fence together, paws scrabbling at the concrete path on the other side and set off again at a run. It appeared to be some sort of park or recreational ground, and the tree-lined trail ran steadily for a mile or so, through to the parking lot just off the main road, and headed on out into the darkness.

We carried on following eagerly, the scent getting stronger with each minute that passed, keeping to the shadowy edges of the road.

_Not far now. Some of the scent backtracks, grows faint and crosses over, so I'd say he came back a little later to pick up his van. _Sam explained.

Andy's scent was tinged with sulphur, the mark of one of the special children, _demon blood, _but had now taken on a distinct petroleum based edge to it.

The guy must have panicked and ran when he saw the hulk, leaving his wheels behind only to come back when it was safe. Chances were Andy was the one who put in the anonymous call to the police.

The familiar rumble of a powerful engine on the road behind had us skidding to a halt, and waiting patiently for the Impala to appear.

_Lads? Everything ok? _Sire asked, just as the Impala came into our line of sight.

_Yup, nearly there in fact. _Sam replied, confidently.

_Good work!_

The car rolled to a halt beside us. Sire wound down the window and grinned. "Excellent show back there, by the way. Are you pups ready to change back now?"

Minutes later, adjusting my tee-shirt a little, I turned to Sam, who was crouched down and busy tying his bootlaces.

_You sure about this, Sam?_

_Yup. _He replied without hesitation, then glanced up from what he was doing. _And in any case, it's a little late to back out now._

I reached out and squeezed his shoulder. _No it ain't. We could hightail it out of here and never come back. It's not too late whilst we're still off hulk's radar…_

Sam shook his head. _And then Andy would have outlived his usefulness._ _He wouldn't last five minutes after we got away. _The kid stared at me, sadly. _I can't leave him to die, Dean. We save as many as we can, remember?_

He was right, but he was also very wrong.

_Yeah, but you come first, Sammy._ _You __**always**__ come first in my rule book._

Sam smiled, gratefully. _I know._

Tobius said nothing, just sat in the driver's seat, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble. It was a lonely stretch of road, and at two am we'd seen no traffic, other than the odd patrol car speeding by, but the cops were too preoccupied and hadn't really noticed us. Andy was only a mile or two up ahead, by our estimation, so we decided to walk it, whilst Tobius stayed out of sight, ready to race to the rescue if scary hulk-man showed his face.

We walked in silence, our ears on guard for suspicious sounds, and our noses sniffing out the herbal scent from earlier. It still lingered in the air even though we were miles from the house, which suggested that once activated, the stuff dispersed itself over a wide radius, effectively hiding the owner from sensitive snouts.

_Do you think the other kids are here somewhere?_ Sam asked, tentatively.

Tobius answered that one straight off. _Doubtful. I think they can only gather when the demon, Meg, calls to them. Otherwise they work alone, all the better to scour the country looking for us._

Sire sounded so confident, almost bored, but then he was the one doing the sitting around and playing the waiting game. Though he had one consolation, and it came in the form of a high powered sniper's rifle, complete with night scope and several magazines of ammunition, resting on the passenger seat next to him. Sire's favourite toy. It was covered with a blanket for now, just in case one of those patrol cars stopped by where he was parked. And, of course, he still had the 'dog search' excuse if anyone should ask.

Tobius would be the one to take out Andy should he prove dangerous, but he would also be ready to take down the hulk-man.

After all, that was our main mission, to find and pick off the special kids one by one, until they… _ceased _to be a threat. And given what we knew so far, hulk-man seemed the biggest threat of them all.

The trail led us to a small tree-hooded picnic area and rest stop, and I gawped at the sleek, black van squatting under a tree at the back, as far from the road as possible.

"Dude! That is one sweet ride," I muttered as we trudged closer. "The A Team'd be green with envy, huh?"

Sam snorted softly. "Yeah. Figured you'd notice that."

Then he halted mid-step. "Dude, why are we creeping around like a couple of criminals? If hulk-man is here, then he already knows we are too, and Andy could be dead already."

Kid had a point.

"True, but just be careful, ok?" I answered, glancing round, feeling more uneasy with each passing minute.

Sam strode over to the van, and pounded determinedly on the rear doors. "Andy? C'mon, open up!"

I grinned. It sure was fun seeing Sam go all masterful.

The van remained silent, as though no one was home. But Sam and I knew better. Andy's scent was stronger than ever, with no trace of blood.

Sam's nostrils flared briefly. "Andy? You ok, dude? Come on out, it's me. Sam."

Masterful, yes, but above all, worried. Sam considered the guy his friend, after all.

A soft metallic clunk preceded the rear door cracking open a couple of inches, revealing a pair of frightened eyes, swivelling rapidly in their sockets. But once they lit on Sam, the eyes softened with relief, and the door swung wide open.

A small, no _tiny _dark haired guy leapt from the van and straight into Sam's arms with a muffled whimper.

I raised an amused eyebrow. _You never told me you'd started dating again._

_Shut up, Dean,_ Sam replied, but said aloud "Andy, what the hell's going on?"

The little guy released his bear hug hold on Sam, sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes.

"M'ssso g-glad you're h-here," Andy mumbled, his voice so small and lost that I began to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. His sad eyes and obvious distress were already starting to get to me. "Y-you g-got my message… I-I'd never tried anything like that before…"

_That_ got my attention and even Sam raised an eyebrow.

_Sam?_

_Not sure? _He obviously knew what I was asking. _Looks like Andy learned another skill._

Sam eyed the kid, worriedly. "Are you saying that murder vision is from you? _You _sent me that?

Andy nodded, eyes still wet with tears. "Not so much sent, but _put out there_," he waved a hand vaguely, "in the hope that you'd pick it up."

So that vision wasn't Sam's after all. But when he opened his mind to access his powers, Sam caught hold of Andy's vision, kinda like an ethereal video message.

Andy sniffed again. "I tried to stop him, but he was too strong. And he just… he just…" the poor kid shuddered, his face pale, and his grief tangible in the early morning gloom. "_Tore her to pieces…_"

"Andy," Sam spoke gently, one hand rubbing Andy's arm in comfort. "The police were saying she was your girlfriend. Is that true?"

"Her name was Talia." Andy nodded, and clenched his eyes shut against more tears. "I was going to ask her to travel with me. Maybe sell the van and buy an RV, one big enough to raise a family in, ya know?" Another fierce sniff. "I wasn't gonna use my powers of persuasion on her, not like before… with Tracey…"

_Huh? Who's Tracey? _I asked, silently.

_She's the one Andy's twin brother tried to kill, but with all that mind control stuff, she was too scared of Andy to continue their relationship. I guess he moved on after that._

Andy seemed to notice me for the first time. "You must be Dean. Sam's brother." Poor kid forced a smile through his tears.

"The one and only." I offered up a small salute.

"Andy, why did you let me see that vision?" Sam asked, "And who was the guy that killed Talia?"

Andy swallowed hard. "I guess I needed your help, to try and stop it. I didn't think I'd be able to take him on alone and I was right." Watery eyes regarded us. "I don't blame you, ya know. S'not your fault you were too far away to get here on time. I knew it was a long shot, but I'm glad you're here now."

I could've hugged the kid when I saw the look of sad gratitude on Sammy's face.

"Jake Talley." Andy suddenly announced.

"What?" Sam looked as baffled as I felt.

"That was his name," Andy nodded with a little more enthusiasm. "Jake Talley, ex-US Army, strength like… like…" he raised his arms and let them flop to his sides in a helpless gesture. "Nothing I've ever seen before."

"He, what, stood there and introduced himself to you?" I was astounded. "Right before he ripped off your girlfriend's head?"

_Dean! _Sam glared at me when Andy flinched. _It's called tact? Ya know? Something you used to know about when Jess died? Try applying it here!_

But we didn't have time for that, and my unease was growing the longer we stood there, out in the open, chatting away like it was some kind of fucking _mother's _meeting!

Grabbing Andy's upper arms, I gave him a quick shake. "What did he tell you, Andy? Jake must've told you something, right? About Sam? _What was it?_"

"Dean, for God's sake…" Sam tried to pry my hands away.

"No, it's ok, Sam," Andy gazed up at me, in fear and remorse. "Jake s-said he knew I'd pass on the m-message, that you would c-come here for me… he was counting on it, in fact."

"And?" I demanded, still ignoring Sam's attempts to pry Andy loose.

"He's here, somewhere, but he won't attack until we least expect it," the kid whimpered when I yanked him away from the van, and frog marched him towards the road.

"What's going on? Where are you taking me?" Andy yelled, angrily, until I pulled him back to my chest, and clamped a hand firmly over his mouth. The kid struggled uselessly in my grip, whilst Sam and I had a silent standoff.

_Dean! What the hell are you doing?_

_Sam, if he's such a good kid, then ask him why he didn't put out another message, warning us not to come here in the first place. Ask him why he allowed Jake to use him and his girlfriend as bait the whole time, when he knew what the guy's intention was… __**if**__ he's such a good friend to you._

_He was scared, Dean, _

_Yeah well, so am I, for you..._

Sam faltered but carried on_. He'd just seen his girlfriend torn to pieces right in front of him! He had no choice! Jake would've killed him on the spot!_

That shut me up a little. Maybe I _was_ being unfair to Andy after all, but this... to put it lightly, this really _sucked_.

With a sigh and nod, I released Andy, but offered a fair warning before he could speak.

"I'm going to take you someplace safe, and you're gonna keep your big mouth shut." I levelled a finger at him, making him flinch. "Any, and I mean, _any _sign that you're using your freaky mojo to contact Jake and tell him where we are, and I swear I'll rip you a new one."

Andy's eyes widened. "I-I w-wouldn't…"

"Good." I interrupted, sharply. "That's great, keep it up. Let's go."

**_Author's notes:_**

**_Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, though I'm a little worried by the dip in number on the last chapter._**

**_If anyone's getting bored, then rest assured that the actions about to step up, so please do click that button._**

**_Kind regards,_**

**_ST x_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 7**

_**Now…**_

"**I guess I was giving Andy **_**and**_** Sam a pretty hard time," Dean says. He's sitting beside the bed, and appears to be changing the bandages on Sam's chest. His hands are quick, gentle and methodical, like they've done this many, many times before. "Gotta say, I was feeling pretty pissed back then. First priority is my boy's safety, and I didn't know if I trusted Andy's word enough. For all I knew, he was screwing Sammy over," he lifts away the final piece of gauze and bites his bottom lip, as though worried about what he's seeing. **

"**That's infected, dammit!" Dean mutters urgently, and reaches over, grabbing something sitting next to the camera. As his hand draws away, it becomes clear that he's holding an ornate glass jar filled with some kind of glowing green gel. Flipping open the brass lid, he pours a little onto Sam's chest and ever so gently rubs it in.**

"**It's a little something Sire whipped up, just in case," Dean explains and wrinkles his nose in mild disgust. "Apparently it's some kind of powerful antiseptic made from crushed glow worms, among other things," he shudders. "Don't tell anyone, for God sake! Last thing we need right now is trouble from some environmental group with a taste for **_**revenge against worm-killing werewolves!"**_

**A few minutes later, Dean replaces the jar on the nightstand next to the camera.**

"**Anyway, as I was saying. I didn't trust Andy at that point," fresh gauze is applied to Sam's chest, then Dean gently pulls the boy up off the bed until his chin is resting on Dean's shoulder, and they are chest to chest. Sam's arms hang limply downwards, as Dean carefully begins to wind a clean bandage round Sam's body. "And Sire wasn't exactly a fan of the kid either. But I guess you could say we were in for surprise…"**

_**Then…**_

_Sam?_

_I can feel him out there, near the river. He's getting closer…_

_The man's good, gotta give him that. _I mused, worriedly. _Can't hear or smell a damn thing, but I sure can sense him…now… guy's powerful._

It felt like a large magnet was pulling on me, subtle but getting stronger the closer Jake got, and by now he must have been pretty close.

_Really? _Sam sounded surprised. _You can feel that, huh?_

_What? Why wouldn't I?_

Sam shrugged, grabbing Andy's other arm, keeping the smaller guy between us for his own safety. _I guess I thought only other psychics and special kids would be able to sense him. Unless you're also…_

_Aw c'mon, Sam. I ain't no psychic!_

_I'm just sayin'…_

_No, Dean's quite right, _Sire's voice broke in. _Because I can sense him too. Now boys, I need you to do me a favour. When I say run, you run like hell and don't look back. The car's out on the road about two hundred yards from where you are now, and I left the engine running. Understood?_

_Yep._

_Loud and clear._

We continued on in silence, Sam and I because we were keeping an eye out for Jake, Andy because… well, I think I scared the living shit out of the poor guy.

As we approached the road, I felt Jake's presence barrelling down on us just as Sire roared out

_RUN!!!!!_

Picking up Andy between us, his feet dangling helplessly off the ground, we went from a standing start to top speed in under a second. I risked a glance behind us and _sure as hell _wished I hadn't.

Jake wasn't particularly a big guy, no taller than me, in fact, but his eyes… God!

They were like two giant black holes of malice and hate. His whole demeanour was hunched and tense, as he pounded the earth. When he was around fifteen feet away, he _sprang_, leaping high, latching onto our backs and bringing us down in a tangled heap.

I immediately kicked out, managing to get enough power behind it to push him off, and he snarled, teeth a stark white against his dark skin.

"Winchesters…" he growled. "I've been waiting for you…"

"Great. We're here." I grinned and somersaulted to my feet, making sure Sam and Andy stayed behind me. "Let's get this over with already. I'm getting bored!"

Jake's grin matched mine, just before he leapt at me once again.

_Sammy, get to the car._

_M'not leaving you!_

_Sam…_

His first blow damn near knocked the brains right out of my head, but the second was far worse. The taste of my own blood exploded on my tongue, and ran down the back of my throat, almost choking me. I managed to duck the next blow, circling round, only to find that, somehow, Jake was standing in front of Sam.

A loud gunshot echoed round and bounced off the trees, but the bullet halted in mid-air, just inches from Jake's forehead and dropped to the ground. It should've have been the perfect shot, dead centre, one any sniper would have been proud of.

Sam, my brave son, held Andy behind him, the smaller guy trembling with fear, but Sam met Jake's gaze defiantly, nose morphing into a snout, sharp, razor-like fangs lengthening.

Jake tilted his head in consideration. "Nice doggy. Don't bite me, now. Wouldn't want to take your head clean off… like Talia, huh Andy?"

Andy whimpered on hearing his dead girlfriend's name.

"You murdering sonofabitch!" Sam growled, and backed away, still shielding his friend.

Another shot rang out, but this time from another direction. Jake froze and stared down at his chest, watching the red stain spread across his jacket. He glanced up and grinned again. "That tickled." He sought eye contact with me. "Your Daddy's a good shot, by the way. And fast too. Never known an assassin to change position _so_ fast."

Before I could answer with a snarky come back, Sam threw himself into a powerful round house kick, his boot connecting with the side of Jake's head. Jake crumpled to the ground, groaning softly, but that didn't stop him either.

He got up, no longer smiling, and launched his body at Sam with frightening speed, attacking him with a sharp and powerful upper cut to the jaw, nearly sending the kid's eyes rolling like a slot machine. Sam staggered back, but Jake kept on coming with another fist to the solar plexus that sent Sam to his knees, mouth gaping open and unable to draw a breath.

All this happened in a matter of seconds.

I... just saw _red_ when Sam went down, and in that same moment my clothes tore at the seams, the change instant and painful. With a long, angry howl I landed on Jake's back, sinking my claws in deep.

I didn't _dare_ bite him. Imagine this creep as a werewolf...

Jake roared in pain as I pulled on his spinal cord, trying to rip it out, but he staggered onwards, towering over Sam, the kid staring back up at him, still unable to breathe.

It was like my worst nightmare times a hundred. Jake was unstoppable and just kept on coming.

Andy appeared out of nowhere and, brave little guy that he apparently was, ploughed his fist into Jake's nose. It was like water off a duck's back. Jake merely side swiped him and Andy's head connected with a stout tree, rendering him unconscious instantly.

_Dean! Get off him, I can't get a clean shot!_

_Sire, just shoot. It's not silver, and it'll go straight through me into Jake._

_D-Dean, no! _Sam pleaded with me, just as Jake wrapped a hand round his throat and squeezed. _It'll h-hurt y-you…_

_Dean just get off him! _Sire insisted. _While it won't kill you, we can't afford to have you off your feet for the next few days, now __**do as you are told, boy!**_

I snarled and leapt off, growling loudly.

Tobius fired again, several times in fact, but Jake did little more than flinch in his quest to crush Sammy's throat. But that wasn't all he was attempting to do. His other hand formed a powerful fist, and I suddenly knew exactly what he intended.

_Sire, for God sake, kill him already, he's about to rip out Sam's heart!_

But no one got the chance to try anything.

I caught sight of Sam's suddenly _intense _glowing blue-green eyes, the black irises thickening, just before the upward swing of Jake's fist began.

A tremendous _crack! _from above had us all glancing up.

Jake's jaw dropped as the large tree descended and crashed over him. After the noise died and the dust settled, it seemed that the tree was Jake's very own Achilles' heel.

But Sam had gone too quiet for my happiness.

_Sammy?!_ There was no sign of him under the branches, and I feared he'd been badly injured.

_I-I'm ok… the trunk m-missed me… g-got Jake though… c-can someone h-help me out here? I'm a little t-tangled up… and uh… still c-can't b-breathe…_

_Sure thing, kiddo._ I changed immediately, and started grabbing at tree branches, pulling them aside, wrenching some away from the trunk until a very pale Sammy was revealed beneath. Blood was running down his face and, judging by the wheezing, his solar plexus was still suffering, but the awkward angle of his legs told me they were badly broken.

I winced. _Ouch. Sorry kid. That's gonna be painful._

_Yeah, _Sam nodded and rubbed at his raw throat. _I think he damaged my vocal cords too. Bastard damn near broke my neck!_

I patted him on the shoulder. _At least your heart is still intact, Sam. That's what counts. The rest will heal._

Wrapping an arm round his shoulders and sliding the other under his knees, I lifted the poor kid out from the tree branches and carried him clear.

Andy was still out cold, but Tobius appeared in the gloom some feet away. Now that sure was worrying. Sire was almost on top of Jake, and yet his bullets had barely made a dent.

_Your duffle bags are in the car, I checked us out of the motel when you boys were tracking Andy, _Tobius swung his rifle up behind him on its strap, then bent down and checked Andy's pulse. Satisfied the kid was alive, if still unconscious, Sire carefully picked him up. _Sam? You ok, pup?_

_I will be, _Sam answered, sounding tired and in pain.

Remembering what happened to his body just after I turned him some years before, I sure didn't envy him. When his natural werewolf healing kicked in, it wouldn't be pretty, and Sam would be in horrendous pain from it. My heart clenched at the thought.

_What about, _I jerked my chin in the direction of the fallen tree, _him?_

Tobius' eyes glowed fiercely when the tree limbs suddenly began to rustle and shake.

_We're in no fit state to go another round with him. We leave right now!_

_But… _I wanted to finish Jake off, could still feel the anger throbbing through my veins from when the guy made to tear out Sam's heart.

_No arguments, Dean! We cannot afford to waste anymore time…_

_He's right, Dean. We don't stand a chance against him, _Sam pointed out, his eyes slipping shut when pain and exhaustion overwhelmed him.

Even as he said it, the tree began to rise up.

Sire backed away. _Get to the car, now!_

We both turned and bolted as fast as we could, carrying the wounded away, before the tree crash landed a mere two feet behind us.

Tearing up the road towards the Impala, I thanked our lucky stars the engine was still running. Dumping a now unconscious Sam on the back seat, I slid behind the wheel, just as Sire did the same with Andy. The moment the front passenger door slammed shut, and Tobius yelled "Go, Go, Go!" Jake was there, standing directly in front of the car, some thirty feet away.

Without a moment's hesitation, I threw the car into reverse and jammed my foot on the throttle, launching the car backwards. One quick glance out the windshield terrified the living shit out of me; Jake started running.

And boy was he fast!

There was no way in hell we were going to outrun him like this, so I took a chance, spun the wheel, braked, and shifted into forward gear. The car performed like a star, carried out a perfect one eighty spin, and I slammed my foot back down on the throttle. We took off just as Jake made his final leap, missing us by a hand's breadth.

Leaving him behind, I could still see his retreating form in the rear view mirror, but that scowl… _those eyes_… they'd stay with me for a long time to come.

No one spoke. Or at least, two of us didn't speak, and the other two were still out of it long after we left the state line behind us and pulled into another motel.

Tobius booked two twin rooms and, with a nod, tossed me a key card. The message was loud and clear. Whilst he would take care of Andy's injuries, I would look after Sam's.

His legs were _very _badly broken, in several places by the looks of things, and in spite of the tree trunk missing him by inches, a branch must've caught him on the side of the head. Thick, dried blood clots clung to his hair, but the bruises on his neck were the worst.

I sensed when the moment had arrived. I was bathing the dried blood from his face when he stirred, eyes fluttering open.

We stared at each other for a few seconds.

_Sammy? How'd ya feel, buddy?_

Sam's body tensed up like a coiled spring, his mouth fell open, and a terrible, strangled scream emerged.

_D-Dean! God! H-hurts!_

_Easy, kiddo. It'll be over soon._

I couldn't give him any pain meds, not like last time when he was younger. That had been an exception to the rules anyhow; he'd been sick from a silver bullet wound, malnourished, newly turned and needed the break. The gaseous pain meds Tobius had given him via an oxygen mask wouldn't have made much difference to his metabolism at that point, and in any case, it would've been downright cruel to let him suffer any further.

But now… he was older, an experienced werewolf, and he couldn't afford the alterations to his metabolism. It would slow his healing from future injuries until the drugs were out of his system, and make his changes too slow and painful.

Poor kid was in a world of pain already from the slow dilation of a constricted throat and healing vocal cords, the decompression of his solar plexus, and the head injury that suddenly spewed out wooden chips and splinters. Sam's screams were getting louder, despite his best efforts to hold them in. I worried the neighbours might call in the night manager, or worse, the cops.

Grabbing a pillow and pulling off the case, I sought eye contact with Sam, and held out the material.

_You can scream all you want with this in your mouth, kiddo._

Sam closed his eyes and nodded.

Happy he'd given me permission, I rolled up the pillow case, jammed it between his teeth and firmly tied the ends round the back of his head. Sam finally felt free to let it all out, and fully screamed into the makeshift gag. I held him down when he writhed and bucked, his back arching when a particularly large and vicious looking splinter of wood was pushed out of his right shoulder. Damn thing had gone almost all the way through. That was one I hadn't even noticed. Perhaps the splinter had plugged the wound so efficiently there had been little blood... until now.

_Sorry buddy._

Sam's muffled sobs as the pain passed, and he calmed down, broke my heart.

Because it hadn't even got started on his legs yet.

It was eleven am before either of us got any sleep. As predicted, his legs nearly sent Sam crazy with the pain. At the first snap, his eyes had rolled back in his head, foam gathered at the sides of his mouth round the gag, and the kid nearly stopped breathing from shock.

The slow grind of bone on bone had Sam clutching at the bed sheets, knuckles so white I could swear I heard them creaking in protest.

_Easy now…_

Another snap and Sam's body jerked violently.

I'd hastily removed the gag by this point. Sam wasn't screaming anymore, having passed through that stage and into the black void of despair.

I felt guilty as hell. Having told him it would all be over soon, the healing seemed to be making a liar out of me, 'cos it was taking forever.

I was beginning to wonder about that.

Eventually, the healing process complete, he slumped on the bed, thankfully unconscious once again.

_How's he getting along? _Came Tobius' worried thoughts. Presumably he'd been listening in on the other side of the wall from his own room, but kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt.

_Slow. Painful. Poor kid's gonna be exhausted when this is over._

_Not surprisingly. _Sire concluded, dryly. _He had a tree land on him. A heavy oak, probably around three hundred years old, unless I'm very much mistaken._

_Perhaps he missed his calling._ I grinned.

_What?_

_Yeah, maybe he should have been a timber wolf… get it? __**Timber?**_

There came about a heavy silence, before Sire cleared his throat and announced.

_I __**see**__. You __**want**__ me to hurt you. Don't you?_

I chuckled. _Just trying to lighten the mood a little._

_Try harder, _was the sharp comeback, but I could hear a grin in there somewhere.

_How's Andy?_

_Bad concussion. Bruised all down his back. Still unconscious. _Seeing as Tobius sounded as tired as I felt, I guessed he'd probably been up all night same as me.

_He'll be ok?_

_Oh yes. I'm sure of it._

Another silence.

_Where we gonna put him? _I asked tentatively. _I mean, we can't keep him with us, though Sam will try to insist._

Sire let loose a heavy sigh. _Hmm. I was thinking about Gerald and Josey._

I sat up, a little shocked. _Won't that put them in danger?_

_That depends…_

_On what?_

A small pause preceded Sire's shocking idea.

_It depends on whether or not we can persuade Andy to let them turn him._

My eyes, having slid closed, just to rest them, snapped wide open.

Gerald and Jose were a sweet couple that lived a few miles from our cabin, and family home. Happily married, and having recently entered the realm of parenthood for the first time, there was something just a little bit special about them. We'd first met Gerald during one of Sam's first training sessions with Little Ted, the sadly mutilated teddy bear. Sam had attacked Gerald, and for a moment there I really didn't think it was going to end well, seeing as Gerald was actually a werebear (see previous journal entries). But Sire showed up and put the record straight, and we went on to become firm friends with Gerald and, eventually, his beautiful wife, Josey. Tobius even played midwife during the birth of their daughter.

But, still...

_You can't be serious!_

_Why not?_ Tobius _harrumphed _softly, as though trying not to laugh. _I think it would rather suit the youngster… matches his personality, and I believe he would get on tremendously with the werebears. _

I thought that through. _I suppose…_

_It would certainly help keep him safe, and Jake would have a hard time coming after him._ Sire was trying hard to convince me that this was a good move, so he'd obviously already decided. _He'd have the strength to defend himself against most other threats, in fact._

_In that case, why don't __**we **__turn him? _I asked, though I had already guessed the answer.

_Not a likely match._ Tobius answered. _Andy doesn't have the personality type for being a non-lunar. He wouldn't be happy, and he just wouldn't survive for long. And, like the werebears, he's not a hunter. Josey and Gerald prefer to forage and fish._

That was probably pretty accurate. All Gerald and Josey tended to eat were berries, nuts and fresh salmon. That was more in keeping with Andy's nature, rather than hunting deer and rabbit. The same could have been said about Sam once upon a time, but the difference was Sam _did_ have the personality type; he _was _a hunter and a damn fine one at that. He just didn't have the confidence back then, which wasn't that surprising given all the shit our _Dad_, John Winchester, had put him through.

_Just one question. _This had been bothering me from the moment we ran from Jake.

_I think I know what you're going to say, _Sire answered, _but continue anyway._

I stared at my sleeping son, and brushed a hand through his soft hair.

The memory of Jake's hand reaching back, aiming for Sam's heart...

_Jake wasn't trying to __**claim **__Sam,_ it was suddenly hard to swallow the bile building up in my throat. _He was trying to __**kill **__him._

_Yes. _Sire replied, softly. _Jake was acting completely off the Azazel Monopoly Board._

There was a small pause before he added, _and that could work to our advantage. There now appears to be more than two sides to this game._

_Huh?_

I could almost _feel _Sire's slowly growing smile.

_Get some rest. We'll talk about this later._

Sleep didn't come easy at first. I spent a bit of time wondering, and _worrying _about what Father meant by that strange comment.

…_that could work to our advantage. There now appears to be more than two sides to this game._

Hmm.

I did eventually fall asleep still thinking about it, with Sam safely tucked in my arms.

When I awoke sometime later it was dark outside, and my stomach was growling in hungry protest. The warm body in my arms let out a soft sigh when his own stomach joined the food picket line, and I couldn't help smiling in spite of all my worries.

Glancing down at Sam's sleepy face, just as his eyelids began to flutter, I gently stroked back a few stray locks of hair from his forehead. That mop of his was badly in need of a trim, but somehow I just couldn't bring myself to suggest it – it's _Sam, _after all, with his long, floppy hair framing those soft eyes, and his family wouldn't have it any other way. Sam would probably present me with the middle finger in any case, 'cos as smart as he is, eloquence escapes him whenever his hair is mentioned. Kid's kinda touchy about it.

Thank God!

I chuckled softly when his nose wrinkled and twitched.

"C'mon, Sam, time to wake up!" My grin widened as indignant blue-green eyes suddenly opened all the way up, and Sam scowled at the awakening. "Food. Now. You especially!"

"Yeah," Sam sat up just as I leapt off the bed and grabbed my wallet from the nightstand. "I guess so."

Kid tried to hide the flinch but nothing much gets by me. I just frowned at him.

"No guessing about it, Sam," I told him, sternly. "Your body needs extra fuel whilst it's healing. It's the best thing to help with the pain."

_And that's something I've meaning to talk to you about, Sam!_

Sam eyed me warily, like a chastised school kid. _What?_

_Next time you TK a tree into falling on the enemy? Make good and sure you're not in the way, huh? Fucking killed me seeing you like that!_

My heart clenched a little… ok, _a lot, _when I noticed the sudden, fond smile Sam sent my way.

_Thanks for staying by my side… I don't think I'd have made it through the last few hours without your help._

Pretty sure my returning smile was just as sappy. _Yeah you would. You're tougher than you think, dude. You __**are**__ my brotherson, after all._

Sam shook his head, still smiling. _S'not what I meant._

I was halfway across the room to the door, about to head out to the diner just across the street, when I stopped, turned, and told him quietly "I know, Sammy. I know exactly what you meant."

I returned less than thirty minutes later, laden down with polystyrene containers of hot food, and three large cartons of full cream milk. The milk had taken some work, given that it was usually sold by the glass, not carton, so I'd explained that my _brothers_ and I were in training for the Winter Olympics, and needed plenty of fat to keep us warm. Not entirely sure the pretty young lady behind the counter believed me, but I guess it didn't matter too much in the end. 'Cos after some serious flirting, in which I let my eyes glow _ever so slightly, _the lady in question slipped me her phone number.

It was with much regret that I paused on my way back to the motel in order to dump said number in the trash. She really was very attractive, scorching hot and sweet, and there was nothing I'd have liked better than to show her a _howling _good time in the sack.

But there _wasn't_ time; I never like to rush such things, and prefer to leave a lasting and altogether _pleasant _impression on my temporary playmates_. _Like several hours worth. I'm a generous and considerate guy, after all, when I put my mind to it.

But we had to be moving on all too soon.

After a rushed but hearty meal, we packed up again and headed on out, Andy and Sam resting on the backseat and covered in a warm blanket, myself behind the wheel and casting one last mournful gaze through the window of the diner. Sire was riding shot gun again, and smothering a grin.

_Next time perhaps, my son. _He at least _tried _to sound consoling, and I might have believed the smug bastard, if it weren't for catching sight of his twitching mouth in my peripheral vision.

I just sighed heavily and smirked. _Yeah_

**_Author's notes:_**

**_This will be the last update for a week or so because we're heading back to the mainland to visit family._**

**_And because I'm so nice to you guys, I haven't left you with a cliffhanger._**

**_If I do get the chance, I'll try to post chapter 8 during that time, but I really can't make any promises._**

**_Cheers everyone. Your reviews have been wonderful and made all my hard work sooo worth it._**

**_Kind regards,_**

**_ST xxx_**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm back from my break. I must apologise for the slow review replies coming up.. we're moving into a new house soon, and hopefully getting a puppy, so I may end up posting instead of replying at times. Really hope it won't put you off leaving a review to keep me encouraged.**

**Love ST xxx**

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 8**

_**Now…**_

**The camera is moving. Someone is carrying it across the motel room to the sound of soft humming. With a stomach churning movement, the camera is swung round, brought forward and set down on top of some kind of table. This time the camera is facing Sam directly.**

**He's lying on his back, head rolled to the side, one arm draped across his bandaged stomach and chest.**

**Next to him, the other bed is still pulled close, and Dean is resting on his side, eyes closed in sleep. There's an unbecoming dollop of drool glistening on his bottom lip, and the person behind the camera chuckles fondly.**

"**Dear oh dear!" Tobius can be heard muttering in amusement. "What are we going to do with him?"**

**Dean snorts and mumbles, then his eyes snap wide open.**

"**Sammy?"**

**Finally, Sam lets out a soft whimper.**

"**Sam?"**

**Tobius appears from behind the camera, long strides carrying him over to his boys.**

**Sam's brow dips and pinches into a frown; and his mouth falls open on a single word.**

"_**Dean…"**_

**It comes out as a sigh, and Dean's there, whispering to him. Tobius' looks anxious as he sits beside his sick grandson, the back of his hand pressed over Sam's forehead.**

"**Sam, open your eyes, please," Tobius calls out. Although it's said gently, it still sounds like an order and the youngster, now almost fully conscious, has no choice but to follow it.**

**Eyelids flutter weakly for a moment…**

**The view of the camera is blocked suddenly when the two older wolves lean over their youngest.**

"**Dean?" Sam's voice sounds stronger, now, and a little panicked.**

"**Take it easy, Sam," Dean's saying, gently. "Calm down, now."**

"**I-I…" Sam's faltering, his words now being choked out in harsh sobs. "I can't see! Oh God, why can't I see!?!"**

"**Hold still, pup, and let me take a look," Tobius answers, soothingly.**

**The three fall silent, except for Sam's fast breathing.**

**A minute later, Tobius pulls back and shakes his head. "Not yet. Your eyes are still blank, though the worst has worn off. This is going to take months of recovery, young Sam." **

"**Damnit!" Dean stands abruptly from the bed and begins to pace. He's understandably frustrated and worried, but Sam hears this and begins crying afresh.**

**Tobius sighs and glances over at his stressed son. "He'll get his sight back, but it will require a lot of **_**patience**_**, Dean."**

**There's a message in that statement and it's not directed at Sam. Dean stops his pacing, hangs his head and nods, then goes back to sit beside his distraught son.**

"**I'm sorry, Sammy. Didn't mean to freak out on you," he gently grasps one of Sam's hands, looking pleased when the boy grabs on eagerly. "I'm just worried about you…"**

**Tobius stands partially in front of the camera, trying to shield his boys from total digital intrusion.**

"**I-I know, and I'm sorry too," Sam sniffs, despondently. "Seems that's all I make you do, huh? Worry incessantly about me… when you should be looking forward to your quarter century. Instead you're babysitting a broken down wreck who used to be your little brother."**

**Dean gapes at first, then his features slowly morph into a strange mix of anger and sympathy. **

"**You're not broken, Sammy. You're a little fragile right now, but not broken and definitely not a wreck,"he whispers hoarsely, and notices how Sam is blinking heavily already. "Now get some sleep. I'll wake you when dinner's ready."**

**Sam hesitates, then nods slowly, letting his eyes fall shut.**

**Dean turns a sad smile on the camera. "I'll talk to him later when he's a little more awake. But for now…"**

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Then…**_

We had driven through the night, the next day and well into the evening, having changed drivers several times, before Tobius slowed the car to a crawl and pulled off into the parking lot of another motel.

"Let's stop for the night," he glanced over at our sleeping passengers, then turned to me with one eyebrow raised. "They're not expecting us for a while yet. No point in pushing ourselves too hard at this stage."

I nodded in agreement. Tobius had called ahead before we left the last motel, and confirmed that the loud whooping and yelling we'd heard on the other end of the line had, in fact, been the werebears celebrating the prospect of our return.

It was by mutual agreement that Andy was kept out of the loop. There was no point in worrying the kid, especially given his head injury. Kid had woken up eventually, but remained quiet and groggy, often seeming confused and scared. Even Sam's puppy dog eyes and congenial friendship failed to elicit much of a response. Andy just gazed up at us; eyelids drooped to half mast, body compliant and slack. The concussion was preying heavily on him, but at least he was in no pain. Tobius had seen to that with a small cocktail of powerful herbal pain meds.

We wondered more than once about taking him to the nearest ER. However, Tobius' first priority was the safety of his pack. On top of that, Andy's own safety could've been compromised if we left him overnight in an unprotected hospital room. So we all agreed to monitor Andy's condition whilst our journey continued as planned. And as Sire pointed out, once the werebears agreed to turn the kid, all injuries would quickly become null and void.

Gerald and Josey's cabin was still a two day ride away, which was fine for Sire and me, but for Sam, whose muscles and tendons were still recovering from Jake's battering, it wouldn't have been much fun. As it was, he groaned in pain when he pulled himself from the car, and the pops and cracks as he stretched his long arms up and out, made me wince in sympathy. Kid needed to change and go for a good run, that much was clear. It would help reset his body, though the change itself would be immensely painful this time round, but eventually things would settle down for him.

There was only one twin room available this time, so whilst Andy and Sam took the beds, Tobius and I were content to take the floor. We'd slept in more crowded conditions in the past so it wouldn't bother us.

I noticed Sam was restless right from the moment we pulled into the parking lot, eyes staring all around us, brows pinched in a thoughtful frown.

_Sam? You ok?_

_I… I dunno. Not sure. _Sam shook his head and laughed softly. _M'probably just feeling a little paranoid._

But I wasn't convinced. Sam's instincts were rarely wrong.

Tobius paused to stare at his grandson.

_What can you feel, Sam?_

_Nothing I can put my finger on. _Sam huffed in frustration. _Just a general feeling of danger, but maybe that's just the norm for me nowadays._

Tobius carried on staring for a moment longer, then smiled faintly. _That's probably it._

But he flashed me a warning glance to which I answered with a barely-there nod.

As good as he had proved himself to be, Sam still occasionally lacked confidence in his own judgment, and needed a gentle nudge along the path.

_Maybe a hunt and some decent food, huh? _I suggested, wrapping an arm round Sam's shoulders, and tugging him across the parking lot, towards our room.

_Yeah. You're probably right._ Sam smiled wanly at Sire. _You want us to bring something back? Any preferences?_

Sire had been about to lift Andy from the rear seat, but paused to consider Sam's question. "Hmm. If you can find some decent, plump specimens, spiced rabbit and apple pie could be on the menu tonight."

Saliva flooded my mouth immediately in a typical pavlovian response. A quick sniff of the air told me why Tobius had suggested it – not far off, perhaps less than half a mile away, an apple orchard beckoned, its juicy sun-ripened fruit just waiting for us.

Sam nodded eagerly, excitedly licking his lips in a childlike manner, and eyes glowing softly with an innocent hunger that would've had the hotties _awing_ and _cooing_ over him in a heartbeat.

Sire's spiced rabbit and apple pie recipe is one of the best kept secrets from the culinary world, and if the guy wasn't already rich no doubt he had the potential to be if he were to choose to sell the recipe to Gordon Ramsay right there and then. It's one of the best pies I've ever tasted.

It was a little weird at first, 'cos the only pies I'd ever eaten were the usual peach, apple, cherry or even blueberry, so I wasn't sure I was gonna like it. But Tobius insisted we at least give it a shot. I'd clenched my eyes shut, scrunched up my mouth… and taken a small bite. My eyes had flown open in surprise as sheer heaven exploded on my tongue in a whirl of apples, cinnamon and sweet rabbit, and the pie had shot straight to the top of my list, even above cooked trout and chocolate fudge cake.

Sam had liked it so much; he'd requested the special pie instead of the usual birthday cake when he turned twenty one.

Sounds strange, I know. But you guys have eaten turkey with cranberry sauce, right? Well, it's not that different. If you can get your head round the idea of eating a cute fluffy bunny, that is.

There was one other less obvious reason for the rabbit hunt. Sam and I didn't need to roam too far from the motel in order to catch our prey. Rabbits were in abundance on the roadsides, parks and even the back yards of private residences, and their scent was easily followed.

All this meant we'd be able to keep a close eye, a firm ear, and a sharp nose on Sire's room, ready for when trouble reared its ugly head.

And it would. Of that I was certain…

As predicted, Sam's change was painful and left him lying helplessly on his side, panting, and whining pitifully.

Tobius rubbed his soft underbelly, crooning softly to him, whilst I licked at his ears, and snuffled gently.

_Atta boy. You did good Sam._

_Excellently, in fact, _Tobius agreed, offering up his support. _You handled it like a real trooper._

Sam gazed up at us with soft eyes, a small weary curling of the flesh of his lips, revealing a set of sharp fangs in a goofy smile.

_Re-remind m-me… _He paused and panted a little more.

_Remind you of what Sam? _I asked, gently.

'_Bout th-that tr-tree th-thing… _Sam heaved in a deep breath and finished with _Neverwannadothatagain!_

That had me laughing. _Sure, kiddo. Next time, I'll remind you to get out of the way of falling trees._

We'd had a productive night so far. Sam tracked, herded and feinted, luring the rabbits into a false sense of security. Hidden up and waiting silently nearby, I pounced on the prey and made the final kill. Tobius was back at the motel, gutting and cleaning three fresh adult rabbits, and a large saucepan of water, chopped apples, with sugar and cinnamon, simmered away merrily in the kitchenette. Already, my mouth was tingling with the phantom taste of pie…

Damn shame Sam was about to make the night a lot more complicated.

_Dean._

_Yeah?_

_That feeling I've been having?_

_Uhuh._

_May be if I brought on a vision..._

I stopped dead in my tracks. _Not sure that's wise, Sammy._ I swung round to face him in the darkness, scaring off several potential pie fillings in the process. _I know you can control it now, but that shit __**hurts**__ you, and after what you've just been through..._

Sam snorted softly and rubbed his large snout into my ear. _I'll be fine._

_Sam_… I growled, and snapped at him half heartedly.

_I mean it, Dean. _Blue-green eyes flared briefly. _This __**is **__what I've been training for._

I stared at him, pretty much resigned to it. He was probably right. If Sam was getting warning signals that were unnerving him, then a vision was probably the only way we were going to figure it out. Well, other than just waiting for our good ol'friend Trouble to find us, of course.

_Fine. _But I had one condition. _If you're doing this, then you get comfortable first. And none of that passing out crap, Sam! I mean it!_

_Ok! Ok! Take it easy, bro! _Sam sat back on his haunches.

I shuddered a little, my tail drooping, and muttered _Scares the shit out of me when you do that._

_What do you want me to do, Dean? _He replied, softly, head tipped to one side, ears cocked and tongue lolling out.

_Follow me…_

A few minutes later, we curled up under the heavy fronds of a crop of nearby conifers at the back of the motel, branches hanging so low they almost touched the ground, and shielded us from prying eyes.

_Aw Dean! Never took you for the romantic type! _Sam sniggered quietly in my head.

_Hey! Don't start on me, bitch! _I nipped at the scruff of his neck, pulling lightly on the soft fur. _Now settle down._

Sam snuggled into me, burying his long snout in my neck.

_Nice and easy now… just relax, Sammy… and remember, you're not doing this to summon anything, or anyone. _I added, worriedly.

_Yes, Dean._

_You're there as a silent and invisible spectator only…_

_Yes, Dean._

…_and not there to interfere. Ok?_

_Yes, Dean._

_SAM!_

I felt him huff into my fur and shake his head slightly. _I know the rules, so quit worrying, dude._

_Yeah right._ _Like __**that's **__ever gonna happen!_

_You gonna let me get on with this? Or ya gonna keep on babbling at me?_

_Smart ass! _But I conceded his point, and fell silent.

It was quite peaceful, in fact, lying there all snug and cosy under those trees, just listening to the night sounds as nocturnal creatures went back about their business. Had no idea how long it was before Sam stirred and let out a faint _wupf-wupf-wupf_, kinda like that cute noise dogs make when they're dreaming.

But the young wolf suddenly started shaking from snout to tail, the doggy dreaming noise turned into a low whimper, then became a soft howl of pain.

Ok, enough was enough. _Sammy? C'mon, kiddo, wake up!_

Sam whimpered again, and settled for whining deep in his throat. I began to panic when I smelled the sharp tang of his blood. Dampness leaked into the fur at my neck, and I realised he was bleeding from the snout.

_Sam! Wake up! Sammy, come back to me, please? You're scaring me again!_

The kid jolted awake, head snapping up sharply and narrowly missing my jaw. He blinked rapidly a few times, eyes glowing brightly, but appearing dazed and weary.

_Hmmm… uh? Wha…_

Must have been a real doozy of a vision, 'cos the sudden change hit him hard, leaving him breathless and shaky, mouth gaping open in shock. It seemed his body preferred the human form when it came to this psychic stuff.

But the kid was naturally a little freaked out, and began hyperventilating.

_D… D…._

_Easy now. Just rest, and get your breath back. You can tell me all about it later…_

_Nnnnuuuuuhhhhh…_ Sam began shaking his head violently from side to side, frustrated he couldn't get the words out.

_Sammy, calm down, dude. You're going into shock… Sam? Can you hear me?_

The kid's naked body was cold and shivering from head to toe, desperately gasping for air, wheezing and clawing at the dry earth beneath him. Curling round him tighter than ever, my paws pressed against his chest and stomach, I held on, murmuring to him in our heads, and waited it out.

As per usual, Sam eventually fell exhausted and limp, the effects of the vision combined with the sudden change having taken their toll.

I considered changing and carrying him back to our room, but it wasn't worth the risk of being caught out by one of the other motel guests. Besides, there was a bar on the other side of the parking lot. I was fairly certain that a naked guy carrying another equally naked and, apparently, _unconscious _guy into a motel room would attract the wrong kind of attention. As the old saying goes, a picture paints a thousand words. In this case it would paint the _wrong_ thousand words.

Minutes passed by before Sam groaned, tried to roll over, and panicked when he couldn't move.

_Wha?! Who? Let go of me!_

_S'ok, Sam. It's just me. Had to keep you warm somehow._

_Thank God! _Sam stopped struggling and slumped against me, breathing hard. _Thought she'd got me for a moment there._

I immediately pawed at him, rolling the kid to face me, my eyes boring into his.

_She? Got you? _I demanded, fearfully. _What the hell did you see? And who's __**she?**_

Sam shook his head wearily. _That demon… Meg? She's here. That's what I can feel. She found us, Dean._

My heart plummeted like a stone right there and then.

Sam changed back into wolf form, ignoring my protests that he needed rest and recuperation first.

_No time. It was only a short vision, but I saw her approaching Tobius' motel room, and then the door opened, and he was just standing there… _Sam sprang out from under the safe haven of the trees and bounded away.

_Shit! Sammy, come back here! _I had no choice but to follow after him. _Gonna skin you alive when I catch up with you, hound!_

Of course, it crossed my mind in that instance that I might have to get in line, especially if Meg _was _really here.

I soon caught up with Sam, and the two of us headed round the motel block, making straight for the rooms.

We skidded to a halt at the edge of the parking lot, just as the over head lights exploded, one by one, glass reigning down, and plunging the entire area into darkness. When the last of the musical tinkling of shattered glass died away, a shadowy figure appeared at the entrance to the lot, standing perfectly still and facing the building, right in line with our room.

_Tobius, get out! Meg's here! _My mind screamed out in fear for our alpha.

_Relax, young pup, _came the immediate reply, surprising the hell out of us with how casual and unconcerned he sounded. _I suspected we'd run into her at some point. Perhaps not __**quite**__ this soon, but nevertheless, it was inevitable…_

I blinked and Sam froze.

We both managed a confused and timid _Huh?_

The figure began walking forwards, a slight smile on her face, eyes unblinking and clear. Blond hair flashed in the twilight, and occasional glimpses of an angular, pretty face had me faltering for a second. But I was still mad and scared as hell.

_Remember what I told you, Dean…_

It suddenly came to me again, and this time around it made a lot more sense.

_There now appears to be more than two sides to this game._

And by sides, Father meant _players._

I now had an inkling of what Sire was up to, and I watched with ill-disguised glee.

"So," Meg leaned against a pillar under the covered walkway that ran round the motel. "Where is he?" She waved a hand around. "Wolf boy, miracle pup? He around here somewhere? We have some things to discuss."

She was smiling like a snake, eyes gleaming black, smug and ruthless, believing she had the upper hand.

And Sire was about to wipe that smile right off her face.

"No doubt," Tobius leaned against the doorframe to his room, relaxed and calm, not even a little bit intimidated. "But I don't think you're going to get that tonight."

Meg jerked forward and _hissed _at Sire, getting right in his face. "And how are going to stop me, _wolfman?"_

To her apparent annoyance, Tobius didn't even flinch. He merely raised an eyebrow and smiled in amusement. Sam and I silently applauded the guy. This wasn't a bluff, and there was no bluster or bullshit.

Yeah, we all know Sire's got nerves of steel, but the plain fact of the matter is, he just _wasn't afraid of her._

And that was pissing her off all the more.

Meg leaned in and took a long hard breath through her nose, eyes half shut, smelling Tobius thoroughly. "Mmmm. You've been around a long time, Tobius. I can smell the years on you, like a second skin. It's delicious, like the sweetest, finest wine…" She studied his face up close, watching for a reaction that would never come. "Tell me, wolf, what would _Sammy _taste like? Would his blood taste as sweet as this? Perhaps I should find out."

Tobius just stared her out. "Perhaps you should. But then…" he leaned into her, his mouth right by her ear. "I know that's not what you're here for, and I don't think _Daddy_ would be too impressed with you."

Sire moved back, watching her carefully.

"So don't play games with me _little girl!_" he snapped, his nose morphing into a snout, teeth lengthening with terrifying speed, and just pulling back a nano-second before taking her face clean off. She flinched slightly, but to her credit, didn't back away. With his mouth suddenly and fully restored to human, he added, bitingly "I've been around even longer than _you!"_

Meg stared back at him and maybe I was imagining it, but I could swear I saw a glimmer of respect, perhaps even admiration, just for a second there before she shut down and lifted her chin, grinning with renewed smugness.

"You have something to say to me, wolf?" Meg nodded, that smile irritating the crap out of me. "Go ahead, say it. And then _Daddy_ will be along to chew the heart right out of you!"

I'm not sure who was more surprised right then, Meg or us, but Tobius suddenly began laughing, a deep, hearty chuckle that built up in his chest and outright _boomed_ across the parking lot.

Meg, finally showing a crack her in demonic confidence, frowned. "What's so funny?"

Tobius actually wiped tears of mirth from his eyes before replying. I thought _that_ was a nice touch.

"I don't think you want him to do that, dear girl," and out came the pompous, patronising upper class Englishman, and I just _knew_ Meg was gonna blow her stack. "I really don't think you'd want to do that to me at _all._"

"What? Why?" She finally snapped, the skin around her black eyes wrinkled and scrunched up with anger. "What could you _possibly _know that we don't?"

I felt the barest flicker of doubt at this point, but I had to trust in Tobius' assumptions. It was highly unlikely that Meg and Azazel knew about Jake's defection. After all, he wasn't going to advertise it, right? Why would he go against orders and try to kill Sam? He had to be working alone for his own ends, and in his shoes, I wouldn't be so keen to turn on my boss, _especially _if that boss was the yellow eyed demon.

Tobius' laughter subsided, and he regarded the demon with his head tipped to the side. "You really don't know, do you?" He shook his head, still smiling. "Let me give you a clue. We ran into one of your _operatives_ a few days ago. Does the name _Jake_ ring any bells for you?"

Meg opened her mouth, then closed it again with a nod. But there was a tightening to her shoulders that suggested she was less than happy to hear this.

"Yes, I'm sure it does," Tobius stepped out of the motel room, lit up a cigar and puffed contentedly for a few moments. "You see…" he swung round to face her, smiling brightly. "_Someone _overplayed their hand. Jake is your ace up the sleeve, as it were. Am I right?"

Meg seemed to think about that, obviously decided there was little point in staying silent, and that honesty was more worth her while at this stage.

"You could say that. Jake is the ultimate hunter, the toughest, the strongest, the fastest, and the most powerful." She raised an eyebrow of her own, perhaps suddenly seeing the benefit of a temporary alliance with Sire. "But you weren't supposed to run into him just yet. The other children were to wear Sam down first with their own powers, one by one, offering him whatever he wanted or needed, including more power."

Tobius nodded.

_Dean? __What? _Sam was obviously struggling to keep up with all this, but then he'd been out for the count when Tobius and I had briefly discussed it. So I laid it all out for him.

Azazel hadn't known what to do with a psychically juiced up werewolf, and had no clue what the outcome would be, but he must have suspected that tempting Sammy over to the dark side was gonna take more than the promise of a few cool tricks. Sam being his favourite, for whatever reason, needed _extra_ precautions taken on his behalf.

Jake was there as a backup, if all else failed: to hunt us down, force Sam to change sides by threatening his family, and eventually taking Tobius and I out of the equation altogether.

And, as we'd already witnessed, the guy was more than capable of doing it.

But there was something else here...


	9. Chapter 9

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 9**

_**Now…**_

**Sam's sound asleep, head nestled in his pillow and breathing softly through his slightly open mouth. A half empty plate of chopped meat lies on the bed next to him, which is very quickly scooped up before it can slide off onto the floor.**

"**I'm just glad he ate something, even if he was mostly asleep while chewing," Dean smiles a little and nods. "Can't complain at half a plate, especially when he's finally managed to keep it down."**

**Obviously deciding it wasn't right to let perfectly good food go to waste, Dean snacks on the left overs with every sign of enjoyment, talking to the camera as he does so. It's not a pretty sight, but the watcher is more than accustomed to witnessing Dean's sometimes less than delicate eating habits by now (and if one recalls a certain pizza slice from a long ago journal entry, this should come as no surprise).**

"**Damn near crapped myself right there and then when Sammy told me Meg was nearby," Dean acknowledges with an embarrassed chuckle. "I thought our luck had run out, until Sire took over the discussions. The whole thing was pretty strange. Meg seemed almost scared of him, though we all knew she could throw him around like a baseball if she wanted. I could argue that maybe she was worried how Sam would react if she hurt his family, whether or not the kid could kick her skinny ass, but I'm not sure. I think she genuinely held some respect for Tobius."**

**A soft snort from off camera catches Dean's attention and Tobius speaks up.**

"**That's because werewolves were once as evil as she, and, old fashioned that hell spawn are, they still believe we can be **_**tempted**_** back." Another snort. "They'd love to have us as allies again. Also, demon though she may be, Meg wasn't entirely sure she'd be fast enough to stop me ripping out her throat," there's the sound of someone rubbing themselves down, perhaps with a towel, then "I suspect she's grown rather fond of her present packaging."**

**Suddenly, a towel is flung across the room and lands on an indignant Dean's head.**

"**Hey! Cut that out!"**

"**Just get on with your 'Dear Diary' session and get some sleep!"**

**Dean grumbles at that. "Ain't a diary… **_**girls **_**use diaries…"**

**A deep, menacing growl interrupts him.**

"**Alright!" Dean snaps back, but **_**respectfully**_** so.**

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Then…**_

I felt Sam shudder beside me, and pushed against him comfortingly.

_S'ok. Tobius is about to change all that._

_I fail to see how, _he replied, miserably.

_Just watch, and listen._

"I thought you hell spawn only worked by influencing people's choices," Tobius mused aloud. "Watching the poor souls drown in the quagmire of their own bad decisions."

Meg shrugged. "This is true. We prefer it that way. It shows up human weaknesses for what they really are: excuses for their own selfishness." She smiled slightly, the tip of her tongue appearing between her teeth. "Humans don't need much of a nudge in the wrong direction, but werewolves…" Meg clicked her tongue. "You guys are another matter altogether. You don't have the same weaknesses as humans, but you _do_ _have_ weak spots. For example, you'll do anything for your pack, including kill or be killed, and though you will bear the burden of guilt for it, you won't let that stop you. My father would _rather_ let this become Sam's choice, but he wants the kid so badly he'll use force if he has to."

"And what does he want Sam _for, _exactly?" Tobius asked the question we all wanted to know the answer to but, predictably, Meg wasn't going to bite.

"Sorry," she shrugged again, almost coyly. "Even _I'm_ not privy to that information. But I'm guessing it's a seat of power within hell itself."

"Hmm. That would make sense," Tobius grinned suddenly. "Then you'll be most interested to know that you have a lone ranger in your camp."

Meg laughed softly, clearly not catching on. "Excuse me?"

The ancient werewolf leaned in to her again, watching her face carefully, his grin fading a little. "Jake didn't just confront us, and he certainly wasn't trying to take Sam by force, _or_ use his pack as leverage."

Meg's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and her smug face fell. "Then, what?"

Tobius' own eyes glowed brilliant green, and the sudden flash of anger sent Meg staggering backwards.

"_He tried to kill my son, and my grandson!" _he stalked the bitch, pacing slowly forward, head lowered, eyes fixed on her in a deathly glare. _"And you have the __**nerve**__ to come here, demanding to see Sam?"_

"I-we didn't… _know_ this," replied Meg, now calmly standing her ground in the face of the angry werewolf.

"Call him off!" Tobius barked out, sharply. "Take away his powers!"

Meg shook her head, firmly. "Can't be done."

"What the hell do you mean it can't be done?!" Sire practically roared, "Azazel did this to him, gave him these powers, surely they can be taken away."

"They can _never _be removed," Meg answered, now beginning to sound a little angry herself. "Haven't you learned _anything_? _Sam_ was human, and Dean turned him into a _werewolf_! That single act alone severed my father's blood link with the kid, but it didn't take away his powers, and that alone is a reason to want him back."

A shiver went through me. She was right, had to be. It made perfect sense.

_Dammit!_

_This is bad, Dean._

_Yeah…_

"Can't you rein him in, somehow?" Tobius demanded.

"No." Meg's answer was terrifyingly blunt, and somehow I knew she was still telling the truth. "Jake has his own agenda now, and there's nothing we can do about it. He's setting himself up as a rival and that's why he wants Sam dead. In the end, it will probably come down to pistols at dawn, _so to speak_," she added with an amused smile, echoing Sire's earlier words. Meg chuckled. "You boys have got one hell of a competition on your hands."

That also made horrific sense.

Demon and werewolf regarded each other with suspicion, whilst Sammy and I stayed back, hidden in the shadows, watching and waiting.

Tobius watched her shrewdly, his eyes narrowed.

"You've created a monster that even _you_ are afraid of!!" Sire announced, angrily.

And it seemed that Meg had no answer. Even looked a little scared, like it hadn't occurred to her before.

_Boys. You'd better come out._ Sire called to us, sounding as tired and fed up as we felt.

Nudging Sam behind and to the side of me, keeping as much distance between him and the demon bitch as possible, we trotted under the walkway towards Sire, slipped into the motel room, and changed. Sam stood behind me, scrabbling for clothes, not happy about revealing his naked body to Meg, but not wanting to miss a word.

Me? I'm an exhibitionist, and not above showing the evil bitch just what she was missing out on. Gloating is not a pretty trait, but when it comes to hell spawn I have no problem with it. I stood straight and proud, feet shoulder width apart and arms folded, staring deep into her black, demonic eyes.

Her lips twitched into another more _feral _smile. She sure liked what she saw. Girl had good taste… for a demon. But when she shifted, trying to get a peak at Sam around me, I pushed Sam further back into the room.

_Get dressed, Sammy, now!_

"You're _very _protective of your brother… or should I say, _son,_" she smirked. "That's good. Very good in fact. We need you to keep the boy alive from now on."

I growled angrily. "What you think I've been doing since the day he was born, bitch!"

Meg's responding grin wasn't pretty. "You mean, _apart_ from those six months after you ran out on him? Left him at the mercy of John Winchester?" she had the nerve to step into my personal space. "Didn't do such a grand job back then, huh? Oh yeah, Johnny told me all about it. He's having a great time downstairs, by the way. Says he can't wait to see _his_ boys again."

Tobius stepped in before I could rip her to pieces.

"Enough!" he snapped, and glared at the demon. "Do we have an agreement?"

Meg tilted her head to the side. "I don't see we have any other choice," she nodded, reluctantly. "Very well. We'll leave you guys alone. Can't guarantee much about the other kids, though we'll try and rein them in…

_Yeah, I bet you'll try real hard! _I felt rather than saw Sire's slight nod of agreement.

"…but you have our word that until Jake is… _neutralised, _you won't be hearing from us." Meg sounded all matter of fact and business like. "All you have to do is keep Sam safe until we come for our… _needs_."

And didn't _that_ leave an open-ended question?

Like who was supposed to _neutralise_ Jake, exactly?

It seemed she had the answer all ready, and none of us liked it.

"Sam is the only one of you capable of taking him on, by the way, so don't go into any situation blind." But there was something distinctly _shifty_ about the way she said it, like she was hiding something. Huh. No surprises there.

"Aw. That almost sounds like you care 'bout little ol'us!" I snorted, derisively.

"No, _I _don't. But Sam does." Meg waggled her fingers at me and smiled a little too smugly. "And we'll remember this, Dean. I can promise you _that_."

She turned her back on us and walked away, melting into the shadows on the far side of the parking lot.

"Why do I get the feeling we've just made a deal with the devil?" Sam murmured quietly, sounding every bit as worried as I felt.

I shouldered my way passed him into the room, and rummaged through my duffle for some clean clothes. I had no answer to that, and didn't know how to comfort him. Because that was _exactly_ how it felt.

Bargaining with the devil.

_No. We haven't made any deals, pups. _Tobius closed the door behind us. _They haven't offered to save us, or given us anything of substantial use._

He sat down on the bed nearest the door and leaned over a sleeping Andy, checking his pulse.

_They've merely given us a reprieve because it's convenient for them to do so, and it serves their purpose. __**We **__serve their purpose, _he added, somewhat bitterly, _for now._

"I feel like some kind of damn merchandise in a mafia power struggle!" Sam began pacing the room, up and down, up and down, and running a hand through his hair in frustration. A hand that was noticeably shaking.

"Hey!" I grabbed his shoulders on the next pass and kept him from moving. "I know you're scared, dude. We all are, but Sire's right. It's not perfect but it _is _one less problem to worry about."

"But, guys!" Sam's gaze flitted back and forth between Tobius and me in panic. "You've seen what Jake can do! He nearly killed us… and she says only _I _stand a chance of defeating him?" He bared his teeth in a snarl, backed away, and slammed his fist into the wall, sending up showers of plaster dust. "What a crock of _shit!"_

That last word was yelled in despair at the top of his lungs, and breaking our hearts in one easy lesson.

I didn't have anything to add to that, so I just pulled him away from the wall and into my arms, feeling his silent tears dampening my tee shirt.

_You're forgetting one thing,_ Tobius spoke up quietly, from his position beside Andy. _**We've **__also seen what __**you **__can do, Sam. How you used your TK skills to take on Jake… all I'm suggesting is, it's perfectly possible that Meg is right. After all, you must be Azazel's favourite for a reason, to the extent that you even outrank someone as powerful as Jake. You're further up the chain of command than you realise, young pup._

That was supposed to be comforting and in a way, I guess it was. But I'm not sure Sam was _taking_ much comfort from it.

The poor kid just shook his head, and clung on to me tighter than ever.

"Wha's goin'on?" a drowsy, confusion laced voice spoke up from one of the beds.

Andy was blinking up at us, head wobbling on his neck like it was attached only by a broken spring. His face was worryingly pale, eyes bloodshot, and he looked scared half to death. "Who w-was th-that g-girl?"

Tobius smiled down at the kid. "No one for you to worry about, son. Go back to sleep. We'll be leaving in the morning, and you'll be starting a new life with some friends of ours." He pulled a syringe from our first aid kit and filled it with the herbal pain meds.

"Huh?" Andy blinked again, clearly still not on the same wavelength as the rest of us. He glanced wearily down at his arm when the needle slid in, and watched with a strange kind of fascination as Sire depressed the plunger. Two seconds later, he was fast asleep, dreaming the dreams of the heavily drugged.

"Wait." I called, a suspicion forming. "He can't still be concussed." My eyes narrowed accusingly. "You've been keeping him doped up these last few days."

"Couldn't risk the little bugger running away and getting himself killed." Tobius grinned, unashamedly. "Jake would have been after him like a shot. I doubt he'd have lasted more than half a day after what happened."

Guy had a point there. Andy was a little strange, but he was a good kid, and a life with the werebears was exactly what the doctor ordered. He'd be free to happily roam the mountains, whilst living with a family that would love and take care of him. And who knew? Maybe one day, when the loss of Talia had faded a little, and didn't hurt him quite so much, he'd find a werebear girl of his own to settle down with.

Or maybe I was just channelling my own hopes for Sam, when this _nightmare_ was finally over. Whatever it was, it goes back to that whole thing I was telling you about _hope_, right?

Guess that means I haven't given up completely.

Yet.

We made one last stop at civilization before heading into the mountains. Andy was allowed to wake up fully by this point, with no further drug intervention, so he was able to join us for dinner at Leopold's Steakhouse.

It was a cosy little place with old English oak furniture, a huge granite fireplace filled with blazing pine logs, and carriage style lanterns on every table. There was no electrical lighting, with only the glow of the log fire and lanterns providing a dimly lit, intimate atmosphere that made us relax and more than a little sleepy.

In spite of having finished off the cold remains of the rabbit pie a couple hours ago, we were all starving hungry, and looking forward to juicy 32oz steaks, dripping with garlic butter and coated in blue cheese sauce.

Andy ordered a damn tofu steak, much to my disgust, and it was only the warning glance from Sam that kept me from making an issue out of it.

"I rather like this little place," Tobius announced, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of wine. "We shall have to come back."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Assuming the food's any good."

"Judging by the smell, I'd say that's an affirmative," I said, sniffing the air furiously.

Andy said nothing, just gazed into the fire.

"More wine anyone?" Tobius lifted the bottle.

Does this conversation seem a little strained to you? 'Cos it sure did to me.

But there was good reason. This was the aftermath of a heated… uh… _discussion_ in the car. And it started with…

"So where you taking me?" This was Andy.

"Somewhere safe." This was Tobius.

Andy had clicked his tongue, nodded a few times, clicked his tongue some more, then…

"You're not big on giving out information, huh?" He'd then leaned forward and rested his hands on Sire's seat back, and I watched him from the corner of my eye. "Where's 'safe' exactly?"

Tobius had huffed gently. "With some friends of ours."

"Dude!" Andy made the mistake of grasping Sire's arm. "Where?!"

Ever the beta and pack bodyguard, I barked out an instinctive warning. "Hey! No touching our alpha!"

"Dean," Tobius murmured, sounding amused. "It's fine. Andy wasn't to know and he's hardly a threat, after all."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Sam warned. "You haven't seen him in full on _interrogation mode. _Dude could scare the Gestapo!"

Tobius had raised a meaningful eyebrow. "How much would you want to bet upon that?"

Hmm. Yet another mysterious hint at Tobius' past?

Andy had frowned good naturedly at Sam, feigning offence. "I just like to know where I stand, ok?"

Tobius sighed, and turned to look Andy straight in the eye.

"They're a family of werebears, three in fact. Gerald, Josey, and their young daughter Janaya-Maria..." Seeing the rather disturbed expression on the kid's face, he softened his voice. "They're extremely kind, gentle and generous. And they'll keep you out of trouble, youngster."

Andy's mouth opened, in protest for sure, but snapped shut on seeing the warning on Sire's face. Clearly he caught the not-so-subtle undertone of _you're on thin ice already, lad, do not try my patience._

Yeah. You didn't need thought projection to pick up on it, either.

"Ok," Andy had nodded shakily. "I guess I'm going to the mountains to live with the three bears." He'd blinked and muttered. "Can't believe I just said that out loud!"

So yeah, kid was a little put out but grudgingly accepted that it was in his best interests.

His softly added "Sure hope Goldilocks ain't there, or I'm in _real_ trouble" had me stifling laughter.

It wasn't until our steaks arrived that he spoke up again in a small voice.

"What about my wheels?" he asked, referring to his cool black van, left behind at the scene of our confrontation with Jake. Andy cast a hopeful gaze around the table, finally settling on Tobius. "Everything I own is in that van."

Tobius wiped his mouth on a napkin and smiled gently at the boy. "It's been taken care of. A friend of ours is towing it back to his salvage yard even as we speak."

That was news to Sam and me. Sire must have made the call to Bobby while we were out rabbit hunting.

"He'll look after it won't he?" Andy asked, worriedly. "That van's custom made. I'd _die_ if anything happened to her."

"Calm yourself," Sire laughed, softly. "Mr Singer will guard it with his very life, I'm sure. He even promised to fix the problem with the transmission, and perform a full service complete with oil and filter change."

Andy sat upright, looking brighter already. "Wow! Really? That's real nice of him," he gazed hopefully at Tobius yet again. "I don't suppose he'll fit new spark plugs too? Only…"

Tobius lifted a hand to forestall any more babbling. "I'm sure he's got it covered. Now, eat your dinner before it gets cold." _Doesn't this child __**ever **__shut up?_

_No. _Came Sam's firm answer.

Of _course_ the kid wasn't going to let it end there. Through the next few minutes my neck itched. I could almost _feel _the build up. One look at Andy's face confirmed it.

Sam and I were busy chewing happily, watching Sire and the kid with ill-concealed amusement, when Andy opened his mouth again.

"You think he'll get me a new fluffy dice for the rear view mirror? Only, the string snapped on it last week."

Sire looked utterly bemused. _What in God's name is a fluffy dice?_

In truth I had no answer for him. That wasn't something I'd even _consider _for the Impala.

"Excuse me?" Sire attempted to find out for himself.

"Gotta have a fluffy dice, ya know, for luck," Andy mumbled, petulantly. "Just not the same without it."

"I don't think…" Tobius began, and spluttered indignantly when he was interrupted, which was something he just wasn't used to. _Who on Earth does this child think he is?_

I smothered a snort.

"It doubles as an air freshener," Andy continued as though Sire hadn't even spoken. "Living in a van, ya know? It can smell pretty _thick_ in there after a while."

"But…" Sire tried again, unsuccessfully. _Bloodybuggeringhell!_

"And keeping the windows open just don't always work…"

To which I responded with another snort. _Kid just can't take a hint._

Tobius looked like a wolf in severe distress. "Dean! Pass me the salt please!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh… ok. S'not like you to add salt to your food," I observed, passing it over.

"Not for me!" Tobius waved the salt seller under Andy's nose. "But one more word about that bloody van and I'll stuff it in his mouth."

Sam, trying not to laugh, choked on a piece of steak. _Give the poor little guy a break. He's bound to be worried. That van's his baby!_

"Too much salt is bad for you," Andy, completely unconcerned by the threat, picked up his own fork and waved _it_ under _Sire's _nose. "Guy your age should know better."

"_**A guy my age?!**_" Tobius spluttered again. _I can't believe I'm being lectured by a mere child! _"You impertinent little…"

That had me chuckling. _Aw, Tobius. Never seen anyone get your goat quite like this before. Kid could teach __**me **__a thing or two!_

_Don't even think it! _

It was strange. I'd never noticed it before, but there appeared to be a thick purple vein pulsing away on Sire's forehead.

"Ok! I'll order some more wine, huh?" Sam announced cheerily, unsuccessfully trying to keep from laughing.

I felt sure Andy's response would have been something along the lines of _'Should you guys really be drinking and driving?' _but we'll never know, because it was stifled when Tobius raised a hand and gently clamped it over the kid's mouth. He glared at the boy, but we could all see a slight twitch at the corner of his own mouth. Yeah, in spite of himself, Sire liked the kid.

"_Yes,_ he'll top up the brake fluid, _yes_, he'll fix the squeaky wiper blade, and _yes_, he'll bring the van up into the mountains for you once he's done." That glare intensified. "Are you _quite_ satisfied, now?"

Andy, mouth still covered by Sire's large hand, nodded carefully, eyes wide and curious, but no trace of fear.

Had to admire him. Kid had a hide like a rhino.

"Excellent!" Tobius, satisfied at last, removed his hand, picked up his fork and continued eating as though nothing had happened. _Maybe now he's shut up we can eat our dinner in peace._

I smirked. _Wouldn't bet on that._

Andy stared at his own food for a long moment. I saw the look on his face, the twitch in his jaw… kid was just stupid enough to ask another question. But I saw Sam's hand move to Andy's thigh and squeeze just hard enough to make a point. A silent _you've had your fun now drop it._

"Ow!" Andy flinched over-dramatically, glared at Sam, but got the hint, _finally_, and stayed quiet for the most part.

And the hint, should you ever find yourself in non-lunar company, is that werewolves resent putting their food on hold for conversation at the dinner table. Food, especially good food, comes first and, in any case, if we have something important to say we thought project. Of course, poor Andy wasn't to know that.

Sam eventually sat back, rubbed his flat belly in contentment and declared

"That was delicious," he smiled shyly.

Sire and I chuckled, knowing full well what was coming.

"Uh… could I order another?" Sam added in a small voice. "M'still hungry."

"I think I'll join you, as a matter of fact," Tobius answered, and glanced at me inquiringly. "Dean?"

"You even need to ask?" I responded with a grin. "Make that two."

Andy's fork clattering to the plate grabbed our attention, and the kid looked a little unnerved at being in the steady sights of three hungry werewolves. That didn't stop him, however.

"Whoa, dudes!" he exclaimed in amazement, and stared down at his own food. The tofu steak was only half-eaten. His gaze switched from his plate, to each of our empty plates in turn, eyes wide. "Between you, you guys have eaten, like, an _entire cow _already!"

His plate examination came to a close, and Andy eyed us with admiration. "And you've _still _got room for more?"

Tobius cleared his throat, and grinned smugly. "Werewolves have an exceptionally high metabolic rate; we need a lot of fuel."

_At least he's not asking about his van anymore. It's a start…_

"No kidding!" Andy peered up at Sam. "Dude, how'd you survive, ya know, during that business with my twin? I mean, all you seemed to eat was stuff that had been microwav…_OW!_"

He glared at Sam. "What was that… _ouch!!"_

My gaze hardened and flitted between an annoyed Andy and a very shifty looking Sam. _Sam? What's he talking about?_

_Nothing. Take no notice._

_Sam!_

Sam fixed Andy with a glare of his own and gave a slight shake of the head, but it was too late. Sire and I had already caught on.

"Sam?" I turned fully in my seat to face him and folded my arms, eyes narrowed. "Care to finish what you interrupted?"

Seriously, it was like being in the School Principal's office. With Sire and me as a the Principals.

Scowling deeply, Tobius followed suit, glowering at the young werewolf with his head dipped down. "Hm. Yes. Do tell," he said, flatly.

Sam flushed scarlet and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh… um… I didn't have a whole lot of time between each vision," he mumbled. "The visions themselves were pretty horrific, not to mention crippling, Andy's brother was trying to kill Tracy, and… and…" his flush was now almost purple. "_Iatemicrowavefood!" _came out in a breathless whisper.

Here's another little known fact about non-lunars. We don't eat food that's been either defrosted, cooked or reheated in a microwave, unless desperate. Microwaving chemically alters all the essential nutrients required to keep our joints supple and our muscles from seizing up during a change. Microwaving renders the 'food' useless to us. Sure, it'll fill our stomachs, but is of little nutritional value. In the long term, a werewolf on a poor diet suffers severe stress, attention deficit disorder and weight loss. Insomnia becomes a big issue, and what little sleep is actually achieved becomes plagued by nightmares.

I'd seen almost similar effects when Jo Harvelle put a hex on Sam back in college. It sent him into a black despair that had him pining for his family; he quit eating altogether, and stopped changing. It nearly drove him insane.

And there's another complication to consider. Recovery and healing post injury can be severely depleted and slow for quite some time afterwards.

Which was why, in light of Andy's slip of the tongue, Tobius and I were damned _furious _with Sam.

Given that Andy was unlikely to have known about the effects of microwaved food on non-lunars, I'd have to guess that Sam had barely eaten whilst hunting down his visions behind our backs, which only added to his crime: microwave food, and little else.

Kid knew better than that. But this was classic Sam, jumping in head first without thought for his own safety.

It's stupid and reckless, and it scares the living crap out of me.

_Well that sure explains why your legs took so long to heal, huh Sam? _I drawled, sarcastically.

_That was extremely unwise, young pup, _Tobius growled in our heads, and I wondered, not for the first time, if Sire _had_ gone beyond mere thought projection and _actually_ read my mind this time.

Sam sighed. _Yeah, I know, but I really didn't have a lot of choice, guys. There was just too much going on._

Pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration, I resisted the urge to thump him upside the head. _And that's another reason why you should've __**told**__ us what was going on! _I yelled silently.

Sam flinched. _I'm sorry, Dean…_

_Ya know what? Never mind._ My hand fell away, formed a fist and lightly bumped the table. _What's done is done._

But I couldn't bring myself to look at him again that evening.

We carried on eating our extra order of steak in silence, even Andy finally sensing this was the wrong time to open his mouth. Occasionally, I could feel Sam's mournful gaze on me, but I refused to acknowledge it. At least he didn't try to thought project. I might have walked out altogether right then if he had.

I love that kid, but God! He can make me so damn mad at him!

_Eat up. We're leaving. _Tobius sounded about as pissed off as I felt. _But we'll be talking about this later!_

By the time we finished up and left the restaurant the heavens had opened, and a freezing rain was falling, with the prospect of later turning into full on snow. It was a quiet and brooding group that climbed into the Impala, Sam this time up front in the passenger seat and Tobius behind the wheel. I was still too mad at Sam to want to talk, so the new seating arrangements worked just fine for me. That was, until after half an hour on the road, when Andy was asleep and drooling on my shoulder. Only Sammy gets to do that.

Tobius fiddled with the radio, presumably trying to find a station with a decent weather forecast, but there was just way too much interference. It crackled and whined, setting my teeth on edge until I leaned over between the front seats and pushed in a tape, hoping the soothing tones of The 'Stone's Gimme Shelter would help calm me down. But I was out of luck. The crackling and whining continued and grew louder.

"What the hell?" Andy, having woken up after being dumped unceremoniously against the seat back, covered his ears.

_Sire?_

_I don't know… _but, aloud, he exclaimed "Dear God!" as the Impala gave a sudden violent lurch, then began swerving all over the road.

Tobius fought for control, wrenching the steering wheel hard over and his foot pumping the brakes. But the car just sped up.

_Don't touch the wheel… take your foot off the brake pedal…_

When I looked over at Sam he was bolt upright in his seat, eyes glowing and staring straight ahead, breathing ragged and fast.

_Sam, what's going on?_

_Someone's trying to control the car… gotta stop them…_

_Who?_

_Don't know… can't find them…_

Tobius' frantic gaze never left the road, but he did as Sam commanded.

The car's speed began dropping, gradually, and it stopped its stomach clenching erratic movements across the road. The tyres tried to spin against the wet black top, as though whoever Sam was fighting wasn't giving up so easy, but in the end the car came to a gentle stop and the engine cut out.

We all held our breath, hearing the rain pounding on the roof of the car, none of us yet willing to believe it was over, waiting to feel the car try to move again of its own accord. But the very last thing _any _of us expected was to hear the choking noise from the front passenger seat.

Or for Sam to go into a violent seizure.

"Sam!"

Tobius and I were out of the car in a flash, ignoring the freezing rain, and pulling Sam from his seat.

The kid's body jerked, spasms running through his muscles like miniature earthquakes. Desperate gasps erupted from his gaping mouth, and his eyes were wide open, unseeing and glowing in the darkness. We held him down as best we could, supporting his body and keeping him warm. That was all we could do.

Just hold tight and wait it out.

_**Author's notes:**_

_**Yeah, I know I left you with another cliff hanger. I won't apologize for it because I know you're gonna appreciate it all the more, if your past reviews are anything to go by.**_

_**Just trust me. The boys aren't safe in my hands, but I won't be killing them off either.**_

_**I promise.**_

_**Love and hugs,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 10**

_**Now…**_

**Tobius is pottering round the room in the background, sorting through what appears to be various medical supplies. But Dean's staring down at Sam, whose still out for the count, with a look on his face that might be described as **_**guilty **_**with a small dose of **_**perplexed.**_

"**I know we were a little hard on him over the microwave food," Dean sighs, reaches over and brushes a hand through Sam's hair. "But I just worry about him. He's so… **_**full on**_**… if you know what I mean. John Winchester once told him he was selfish, but that's not it. Sam just sees where he has to go and decides to get the job done, sometimes without first thinking about **_**how**_** he should get there," Dean turns his gaze back on the camera, and lowers his voice. "That's a pretty dangerous way to live…"**

**And the watcher can sense it's obvious the poor guy knows what he's talking about.**

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Then…**_

_Sam?_

_Sammy?_

_Can you hear us, pup?_

Tobius and I exchanged worried glances when Sam's only answer was a soft mewling noise from between tightly clenched teeth, and it sounded like he was in a good deal of pain. But my heart truly sank when blood began _gushing _from his nose and ears. His entire body was still shuddering and jerking away like he had a million volts running through him.

I sensed Andy hovering nearby, but paid little attention until I heard Sire speaking softly.

"Andy, get back in the car, child. You'll catch your death out here."

"But… Sam's my friend." Andy sounded so childlike and lost, I almost cried. "I want… _need _to make sure he's ok…"

"We're looking after him." Sire interrupted, gently but firmly. "Now get in the car and keep warm. You'll be of no use to Sam if you fall ill."

Sad, dejected footsteps trudged away and then came the soft squeak and clunk as the Impala's rear door swung shut.

I liked the kid, sure. But up until that point I hadn't entirely trusted him. That was beginning to change and I no longer thought of him as just _Sammy's_ friend.

He obviously thought the world of my son, and that made him _our_ friend.

Watching Sam's pain racked face, I realised we could use all the friends we could get.

I held Sam tightly in my arms, uncaring of the cold rain. His fingers twitched and jumped with each convulsion, and every harsh grunt of pain tore away at my heart.

_C'mon Sam, easy now. _I whispered. _Please, kiddo, come back to me._

Sire placed a gentle hand on Sam's forehead, and after a few minutes he nodded and let out a shaky breath.

"The convulsions are easing up at last."

I realized he was right. The seizure was slowing, fading, attacking Sam with less fervour, but he was still whimpering like a wounded puppy and shivering with the cold.

"I'll be right back, Dean," Sire squeezed my shoulder.

I didn't even look up, just nodded and carried on staring at Sam's pale face.

_Sam… Sammy… try to relax… s'gonna be ok…_

A few seconds later, I felt a warm blanket being carefully tucked round us, then strong arms followed, lifting me gently to my feet.

_Let's get him comfortable._

_Yeah._ I think I was going into some kind of shock, or something, 'cos I just couldn't bring myself to let go of Sam, even to lay him down on the rear seat.

Andy seemed to get it, 'cos he wordlessly scooted across, grabbed at Sam's ankles and pulled them into his lap, making room for me. I shot him a grateful nod and snuggled up under the blanket with my son.

Wiping the blood away from Sam's face with my sleeve, I sighed in despair.

There was no debate about carrying on with our journey. We were in the middle of nowhere on a dark road in bad weather that was getting shittier by the minute. Even assuming Sam was fit for a change, which he clearly wasn't, taking refuge in the wilderness was out of the question since it was way too hostile for our still very human companion.

Sam had fallen silent and still by this point, but panted lightly through his mouth. His continued lack of thought projection was worrying me.

_Sire?_

_Hmm?_

Tobius was busy checking the car over, just in case. I doubted there was any evidence of tampering, given what Sam had told us right before his seizure, but it was worth a look, I guess.

I decided to speak out loud, for Andy's benefit. Figured the kid deserved that much. "I thought he had more control over these now? Bobby said the pain of the visions would lessen with time. If anything, that looked a damn sight _worse!"_

"Because," Andy turned his head and stared me straight in the eye. "_That _wasn't a vision."

I heard Tobius cluck his tongue. "The lad's right. Sam was fighting someone for control over the car…"

"…and whoever it was has some serious TK juice," I finished, nodding tiredly.

Andy frowned. "Jake?"

I was shaking my head at the same time Tobius answered with a firm "No. He might watch us from a distance, and like to toy with us but, from what I've seen of him, a sneak attack like this isn't his style."

Jake seemed the type to confront head on, preferring to taunt and paralyze his foe with their fear just for a little while before striking out.

"One of the other kids, then," Andy bit his lip, thoughtfully, in a manner that vaguely reminded me of Sam.

"Sam said he couldn't find them," Sire informed him.

"Yeah, ok..." replied Andy, digesting that piece of information.

But his voice had trailed off and his eyes narrowed. I realized I was actually holding my breath in anticipation, and felt like a total girl for doing so. But Andy didn't disappoint.

"I think whoever it is has been following us for a while," the kid muttered, "at least since that restaurant. It's someone who can track me."

"Or Sam," I reminded him.

He shook his head. "Don't take this the wrong way, but Sam ain't _one of us_. _His _blood is no longer tainted and doesn't... _call _to us, if you understand me. I doubt that, unless Sam deliberately allowed it, they can actually track him, but if they know he's with someone like _me…_"

Ohhh yes. That was making a scary kind of sense.

And who would have told one of Azazel's brood that Andy was with us? It was doubtful Jake would have bumped into them and just casually mentioned it. They were just as much in competition with him as Sam, after all.

"Meg." I growled. "The bitch must have known Andy was with us at that motel. She broke the deal!"

"'Fraid not, my son, she kept up her end of the bargain nicely." Tobius slid back behind the steering wheel. "If you recall, she said that she and _Azazel_ would back off from us until Jake was dealt with, but she also slipped in that she couldn't make any promises about the other special children."

_Aw Nuts!_

She'd kept her word all right, and backed off, but just happened to have told the kids about a certain extra passenger. This was looking more and more complicated all the time.

"It does tell us something, though," Tobius mused, aloud. "Whoever tried to control the car wasn't attempting to kill us. They don't want Sam dead, remember."

"So what were they trying to achieve?" I demanded, anxiously.

"That's easy," said Andy, staring down at Sam. "They were trying to reel him in. I just don't think they expected Sam to be strong enough yet to fight it so hard." He glanced up at me. "Oh, I imagine they know he's powerful, but to fight a TK pull like _he _just did? That's pretty extraordinary. No wonder it was painful."

"You seem to know a lot about this," said Tobius, though I detected no suspicion in his tone, just curiosity. "Why would it be particularly painful to counter a TK attack?"

"It just seems logical to me," Andy shrugged. "When you TK an object, it's only one thing to concentrate on. But what Sam did tonight? My guess is he'd have concentrated on trying to deflect the attack _and _trying to bring the car back under control."

"In a thought projection, he also mentioned he couldn't _find_ the culprit…" Tobius trailed off, watching Andy's reaction to that bit of news.

"That might explain the violence of the seizure," Andy said after a pause. He began to explain once he caught our confused expressions.

Whoever it was, knew Sam was looking for them, so they hit out hard and tried to cloak themselves. This in turn became just another problem for Sam to focus on, but by then he was stretched too thin, hence the convulsions, so he shut down any extraneous thoughts and processes, a bit like a computer going into standby to preserve power, in order to concentrate completely on the most important tasks in hand.

This sounded incredibly familiar. At the start of his training back at Bobby's when he went into a weird coma, it was a kind of self-protection. Not quite the same situation I'll grant you, but it was close enough.

And suddenly I got it. Why Sam wasn't responding or waking up.

He was _still_ controlling the car, keeping out potentially harmful interferences.

_Sire, turn on the engine but don't touch the pedals or steering wheel._

Tobius nodded in agreement as though the same thing had occurred to him.

I heard the key turn in the ignition, the engine roar to life, a soft clunk as it slipped into gear, and then we were moving off down the road.

I was right! Sam was still _listening_, but unable to answer.

Sire glanced over at Sam in amazement. "Well, well, well. He really is getting rather good."

But it didn't solve all our problems. Andy could still be traced.

With that sobering thought in mind, the journey continued in silence, with no one sure of what to say. Occasionally, Sam whimpered, as though his complete control over the car was hurting him. I had no doubt it was, and spent most of my time using the techniques Bobby taught us to coax Sam out of his self-induced coma.

It was a full two hours before I got through to him but it wasn't going to help. Basically, he was too busy right then, and could I get back to him later?

I half expected a mechanical voice asking me to _please leave a message after the tone…_

Something, or someone, suddenly appeared in the headlamps, arms flailing, mouth open, probably screaming. The car jerked sharply, brakes locking up, and the tyres screeched in protest, sliding on the blacktop. As we drew nearer, the object of our ambush was revealed as a young woman with rain soaked shoulder length brown hair, wide, terrified blue eyes, and stood at around four foot nothing. Seriously, I've seen traffic cones taller than this girl.

Sam's forehead scrunched up, and he bared his teeth as he brought the car to a skidding halt, just inches from the newcomer.

Without waiting for us to unbuckle our seatbelts, get out of the car, or, ya know, _breathe_, she raced around to the driver's side and knocked frantically on the window.

"Please, you've gotta help me!" Her voice, muffled by the glass was shaky either with the cold or fear. Maybe both. She knocked again, until Tobius rolled down the window an inch or two, and eyed the girl with suspicion. "Please! Some guy was chasing me and ran me off the road! My car's totalled and I can't get a signal on my cell phone," she sniffled miserably, scraped rain drenched hair out of her eyes, and gazed at Sire imploringly.

She was cute enough, in a girl next door kind of way, but I had more important things to worry about than hitting on some damp damsel in distress.

Sire stared at her long and hard, eyes narrowed, and fingers tapping the steering wheel in agitation.

_I'm not happy about this, Dean, but I can't in all good conscience leave her out here in this weather. Poor girl's frozen._

_Yeah, especially if there's someone after her._ I replied, warily. _And that's kinda what bothers me._

_You're thinking Jake?_

_Maybe. It's a little too much of a coincidence that she's all the way out here tonight._

_Quite. She may still be innocent, like Andy. Perhaps doesn't even know what's going on, but…_Tobius tapped the wheel one more time. _We'll just have to be on our guard._

"Uh… can you hear me at all?" the girl was sounding a little put out and I realized it must have seemed like we were ignoring her. "I mean, _I _know I'm making noises, and I _know _I ain't deaf, so are you guys gonna help me, or not?" She moved closer to the window. "Please? I'm wet, cold, hungry, and I'll sleep with all of you in exchange for a decent motel room and a hot bath!" Then her gaze lit on Andy. "Except him. He's too short. I like my men tall."

Andy's mouth fell open and a disgruntled huff emerged, whereas it was all I could do to hide a grin.

Good job Sam was tucked right down, head in my lap and hidden by Sire's seat back, or the girl would've been on his six foot four frame like a rottwheiller in heat.

"That won't be necessary." Tobius, ever the gentleman, got out of the car, and offered the girl his jacket, before ushering her round to the front passenger side. "We're only too pleased to help."

"Aw, thank you!" she sounded genuinely touched by his gesture and, once she was wrapped in the jacket, smiled and offered her hand. "Name's Ava. Ava Wilson."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ava," Sire managed to reply smoothly, in spite of the heavy rain, and gently clasped her hand in his. I noticed that he didn't give _his_ name, and I intended to follow suit.

Just before Tobius opened the door for Ava, I whispered as much to Andy, who nodded in agreement, though I could tell he was still a little annoyed by her 'tall men' comment.

"Don't sweat it, kid. She ain't your type, anyhow," I muttered.

"Huh," Andy replied, sadly. "Yeah, I prefer blonds."

Damn. He was obviously thinking about his dead girlfriend. With my attempt at cheering him up shot down in flames, I settled on reaching over and patting his shoulder. Surprisingly, the contact seemed to work, and a small, grateful smile appeared on his face.

The more time I spent with this guy, the more I realized werebear lore and culture would surely suit him, and somehow I didn't think he'd take as much convincing as I'd first thought.

It wasn't until Ava got into the car that Andy started fidgeting, nervously. I frowned at him, silently asking him what was wrong, but he just shook his head.

"_Not in front of her,"_ he mouthed back, and that set my instincts instantly on high alert.

Ava finally caught sight of Sam and her eyes widened ever so slightly.

"He ok? He looks sick," she asked, concern sounding genuine.

"Yeah, he's not been feeling well these last few days," I answered with an easy smile, then shrugged casually. "Man flu. Ya know?"

"Uhuh," Ava rolled those pretty blues and laughed softly. "Yeah, I got one of those at home right now! All he does is sniff, sneeze, and complain his soup's too cold, or the electric blanket ain't warm enough…"

We let her drone on, pretending to listen attentively, but meanwhile…

_Sire, I don't think Andy's all that comfortable with our new travelling companion._

Tobius merely glanced at me via the off side mirror and gave a very slight nod.

"So, Ava," Sire spoke up, interrupting as politely as possible, whilst waiting for Sam to put the car in gear. "Where _is_ your stricken car?"

Ava shivered. "Brrrrr. S'cold," then pointed out her window. "Down there, in that ditch. Damn thing's stuck in the mud. Ugh! S'gonna take one hell of a tow truck to dig it out!"

Instantly, the car shifted into reverse gear, backed up slowly, then turned, headlamps picking out the ditch.

The first thing I noticed were the lack of tyre tracks. The grassy borders were almost awash with mud and rain water, yet there was no sign that another car had even passed this way, let alone gone off the road.

_Lying bitch!_

As soon as the thought left my head, Ava's door flew open, her seat belt unbuckled itself and, with a loud, indignant squawk, the girl was flung from the car and headlong into the ditch.

It was incredible, like watching one of those James Bond cars with an ejector seat.

But a further shock rendered me speechless when Sam sat bolt upright, wide awake, and eyes glowing brightly.

"Sam? You ok?" I grabbed his arm, but he just shook me off, pushed open my door, leapt over me, and ran out into the rain.

"Sammy!"

He paid me no heed, just strode to the ditch and stared down, presumably at Ava. We couldn't really see from where we were, but that was soon solved when all three of us scrambled from the car and trudged over.

A pair of angry blue eyes glared up at us from a mud caked face. "What in hell was that?!" she screamed. "Who _are_ you guys?!"

"Oh, I think you already know the answer to that," Sam sounded cool and in control, but I could feel the adrenaline charged vibration running along his shoulders when I stood next to him. "So. What are _your_ skills, huh Ava? TK? Visions?"

Ava shrank back a little, the tears running down her face shifting some of the mud. "I don't know what you're talking about! You're _crazy!_" her voice shook, mouth wobbling alarmingly.

Sam regarded her with disgust. "Sure you do," he sneered. "Nice ploy by the way. Shame we just ain't that stupid. How long you been tracking us? Since we found Andy? Or the restaurant?"

Ava lowered her head a little in despair, raised her arms out to the sides and let them flop, helplessly. "_What_ ploy? And… tracking you?" she squealed. "Dude! Who _are _you?"

Sam just shook his head. "Tell us everything you know, and maybe you won't have to ride in the trunk."

"I just wanna go home!" she wailed pathetically and stamped her foot, sending up a spray of mud and recoating her face.

Frankly, she wasn't a bad actress, but none of us was fooled for a second.

So we all just stared the bitch down.

Ava suddenly huffed, shrugged, and wiped away tears and mud from her face. "I guess you guys are _too_ good, huh? Meg warned us, but none of us thought…" another shrug. "Ah well…"

Both hands reached up to her temples and began rubbing small circles into her skin, but her eyes remained fixed on Sam. "I don't want to hurt you, Sam, or your family."

"Then don't." Sam replied, shortly.

Ava smiled. It was friendly, almost _sisterly_, like they shared an important bond, which I guess _was_ at least true at one time. And that was when it started getting weird, like _Greek tragedy _weird.

"There's so much more for you to learn, Sam," the girl beckoned him. "So much for you to look forward to."

Ava took a step towards us, and everything inside me wanted to grab hold of Sam and run.

"A great future as our leader… I'm meant to serve you, Sam. You alone," and with that, she stripped off her clothes and kneeled, naked in the mud, her head bent as if in prayer. "I'm yours… take me."

I was stunned, and there must have been a kind of goofy half smile on my face 'cos Sammy frowned at me.

"Dude!" he whispered, disapprovingly. "Close your mouth!"

Out the corner of my eye, Andy and Tobius were trying hard to keep straight faces but the occasional snigger could still be heard over the torrential rain.

"Huhhhhhh, man!" Was all I could come back with. Ava might have been a special kid with freaky psychic powers, and dangerous as all hell, but wow! She was _hot!_

Those perky breasts, that tight little...

"Get up, and put your damn clothes back on!" Sam barked out, angrily, making me jump. When the girl didn't move, he jumped right down into the ditch, picked up Sire's discarded jacket and threw it in her face. "NOW!"

Ava didn't even flinch, just got back up on her feet, reached out and ran a finger gently down Sam's cheek. "But I'm _yours_ Sam, all yours. I belong to you."

"No you don't!" Sam yelled back. "You don't belong to me or anybody! For God's sake, Ava, think about this! You're not someone's slave to give away as they see fit. You can be free. You just have to make a choice."

The shock that registered on Ava's face soon turned to anger. "How dare you! I was chosen specially, and you have the nerve to turn me away?" her scream became an animal-like roar. "To spurn _me? You ungrateful bast…"_

_I don't like the way this is going, Dean,_ Tobius warned in my head.

_Huh? Girl's gotta a crush on Sammy, that's all, and who can blame her? He's my son, after all._

_You don't understand, Dean! That's what makes her so dangerous! _Sire insisted._ Remember that old saying? Hell hath no fury…_

Suddenly, it all made sense_… like a woman scorned?_ _Yeah, I hear ya!_

I jumped down into the ditch. _Sammy, get away from her!_

Too late, I found myself face down in a stream of inky black water, mud clogging up my nose and throat, choking me. My head felt weighed down and I couldn't raise it to take a breath. It wouldn't kill me, I knew that well enough, but the feeling of not being able to breathe, of slick, cloying mud filling my lungs induced a panic like no other I'd ever felt before. Thrashing wildly, my clothes now saturated, boots scrabbling heavily against the wet earth, I felt the change take me.

Seams ripped, buttons flew, fur and claws sprouted… and, suddenly, I was free.

Spitting out large mouthfuls of dark muck, I reared up on to my hind legs and shook violently from head to tail, great clods of mud sent flying.

Oh boy, was I ever angry, but not nearly so angry as when I looked up and saw Ava rubbing her temples, eyes half closed… and a fucking _demon_ materialized from the stormy skies.

_Sonofabitch!_

The damn thing swooped in on Sam in an instant – _Jesus was that thing fast! _– and raked it's talon-like nails down the kid's gut, tearing his clothes and skin.

Sam howled in pain, the remains of his damp shirt fluttering in the wind, and attempted to fight off another attack. I leapt at the same time as Tobius, my Sire also having completed a speedy change, but another foul swoop from the demon sent Sam to his knees.

Ava backed away, tripping over her own bare feet and using the demon as a shield, but a soft whirring noise, like a small helicopter rota, swept through the ditch. What appeared to be a crow bar in full spin flew down from above and sliced through the demon, dissipating it into wispy grey threads. It finished its journey by burying itself in Ava's chest with a wet _slurp._

Ava stared down at the iron rod protruding from her body, then slowly raised her head to glare at the top of the ditch. I followed her gaze to someone standing right on the edge.

Andy tried to glare back, and would have made a better job of it if he hadn't been shaking so badly. But, with a scowl and a derisive snort, he made sure he had the last word.

"Too short, my ass!"

I guessed it would be a while before the kid let that one go.

Ava's eyes rolled back in her head, and she expired with a sigh, her body falling face down in the stream. Soft hair fanned out, mixing with the fresh blood, and her head bobbed like a cork in the water.

"Uh… _guys?"_ I heard Sam gasp out behind me. "Little help here?"

I spun around and splashed back to his side, my large paws slipping and sliding in the mud and rain, hindering my movements and the urgent need to get to my son.

Sire was already there, curling round Sam's body, keeping him warm.

_It's bad Dean, but at least it wasn't made of silver. Once we get him patched up, he should heal quickly._

I instantly saw what he was driving at. Hard to miss it, in fact.

Sam's guts were on display for all to see, thick, purple tubes of gastrointestinal tract, pulsing and leaking blood at an alarming rate.

_Jesus!_

"Sss'okkk," Sam slurred out, eyes blinking slowly as fatigue and his injuries caught up with him. "T-Tobius is right. I'll heal."

"Here, let me." Andy appeared beside us, pale and sick looking, and carrying the first aid kit from the trunk. Before I could change form he nodded at me. "You keep him warm. I can deal with this."

But it seemed that wasn't all we were needed for. Sam, overcome by shock and blood loss, pitched forward, and would have joined Ava in the mud if it weren't for me pressing my large snout under his chin and holding him upright.

"Ok…" Andy rummaged through the kit, and I could hear him swallowing convulsively, as though trying not to be sick.

I whined softly and gazed at him, trying to convey a question.

"I-I'm ok," he whispered, shakily. "This is… uh… just a little higher on the grossometer scale than I'm used to."

Not to mention having just kebabbed a young woman with a tyre iron. I mean, Andy's taken a life before, his twin brother in fact and saving Sammy in the process, but it ain't something you just get _used_ to.

A few seconds more and Andy was shaking his head in despair. "I can't see a damn thing out here. I know roughly what to do, but Sam needs to be warm and dry. This isn't going to work."

"I-I can…" Sam panted, awake again and not surprisingly. The pain must have been unbearable, but I understood he was talking out loud for Andy's benefit. "I-I c-can g-get b-back up to the t-top. J-just n-need a little help."

_Atta boy, Sam. _I soothed. _You're gonna be ok, little brotherson._

The smile on Sam's pale, almost bloodless face was weak, but I took it as a positive sign.

Tobius changed instantly, and moved over to the former Ava Wilson. Grabbing his jacket from her limp grasp, the only surviving item of the night's clothing, he wrung out all the water and cleaned off the mud as best he could.

"Help me wrap this around Sam's middle. This should help hold his guts in place," Sire ordered and, after I followed up with my own change, we got to work.

Sam grunted in pain and passed out. _That_ was just from wrapping his stomach. So you can only imagine how hard the journey back up and out of the ditch proved to be. By the time we made it, Sire's jacket was a ruined, bloodstained mess.

_Aw Sammy,_ I whispered in his mind, feeling the intense pain and fear trying to drown him. _Why's it always you, huh? Always scaring the shit outta me._

_S-sorry, Dean. I guess I just wasn't fast enough…_

_Dude, don't apologize, ok? Sam?_

He'd passed out again.

_**Author's notes:**_

_**Yeah, I know. Sam's hurt again. I'm incorrigible, eh? Hehe!**_

_**We hardly see any genuine Hurt Sam and Protective Dean on the show, so I'm making up for it in this fic.**_

_**Tough shit to those who disapprove. Go read something else.**_

_**Sorry for not replying to your reviews on the last chapter – the moving house business has been fraught with complications, and then I went out on the lash last night – well, it **_**was**_** my birthday yesterday so I'm entitled. **_

_**Anyway, I thought you'd all prefer a chapter posting rather than review replies this time. I promise that I'll reply to all your reviews for this one.**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising**

**Chapter 11**

_**Now…**_

**The camera's at a slightly different angle than before. Perhaps someone's knocked against it at some point, but there's Dean, sitting side on and holding a mug, with a just a glimpse of the young patient next to him.**

"**I know what you're thinking," says Dean right before taking a swig from his steaming mug. He settles it back on the night stand. "But no, this ain't the result of that night."**

**He glances at Sam on the bed. "**_**This**_** came from something far worse, and far more lethal..."**

**Whilst Dean's talking quietly, the camera picks up movement from the bed, as though someone is stirring.**

"**Dean, you there?" a shaky voice calls out.**

**Dean leans over his son, smile a little wobbly but hopeful. "Heya Sammy. Can you see anything yet?**

**Sam lets loose a small heartbroken sob. "N-no. Nothing. Not even shadows."**

"**Shhhh, I know you're scared, Sam," Dean croons softly. "But it's not been long since it happened. You just need more time…"**

**Tobius chooses that very moment to enter the room from outside, and he pauses, a small worried frown on his face when he hears what Dean's saying. The watcher soon realizes that the words ring a little flat, as though Dean doesn't truly believe them, and judging by the look on his face, the pack alpha is singing from the same hymn sheet.**

**Dean glances up and catches his Sire's eye. There's a silent communication of some kind going on.**

"**Tobius?" Sam calls out suddenly, maybe sensing the tension in the atmosphere. "Dean?" He's gasping in panic and reaching out with a hand, fumbling desperately for some kind of physical contact. "The blindness… it's permanent, isn't it. You just can't bring yourselves to tell me the truth."**

**Dean immediately grabs up his flailing hand and holds it to his chest.**

"**We don't know any such thing," he whispers fiercely, nostrils flaring. "You just gotta give it time."**

**Tobius moves closer to the bed, and places a hand over Sam's eyes without touching him, watching carefully. Sam doesn't even flinch. The ancient werewolf pinches the bridge of his nose for a long moment, then gazes down at his small family.**

"**We'll figure it out, pup," he says, quietly, sounding much more confident than he actually looks. "Just relax and rest up for now. Leave all the thinking and worrying to us."**

**He nods to Dean who immediately picks up a small glass phial of clear liquid from the nightstand, along with a hypodermic needle. He hands it over to his Sire and watches, sadly, as the needle is gently inserted into Sam's IV port.**

**The kid instantly relaxes but Dean tightens his grip on the limp hand.**

"**Wish we didn't have to do that," he says, regretfully.**

"**I don't like it either," Tobius replies, kindly. "But the last thing Sam needs is a panic attack – his body is much too fragile right now. When he's stronger, we'll let him deal with this naturally. But in the meantime, try not to worry. I'll make sure he's awake for meals."**

**Even though Dean nods in agreement, Tobius must sense his turmoil. He steps out of shot. There comes the sound of a cork being removed from a bottle, the clink of glass on glass, followed by a steady **_**glug-glug **_**noise.**

**A large glass tumbler of dark amber liquid is placed in Dean's hand seconds later.**

"**Here," Tobius wraps Dean's fingers around it, and sits on the floor beside him, back against the bed, his own tumbler clutched in one hand. "On with the next video entry, my son," Tobius orders, gently but firmly. "It's nice to have stories told to **_**me **_**for a change, and besides, Sam might appreciate it one day…"**

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Then…**_

We laid him out on the back seat, and whilst Andy and I got Sam as comfortable as possible, Tobius set about rigging up some overhead lighting using an emergency strip lamp from the trunk.

"Ok… Sutures… check. Denatured ethanol… check… biodegradable Glue… check…" Andy muttered, but Tobius and I stilled our movements when we heard that last one.

"Glue?" I murmured, curious, and at the same time a little freaked out. "What you want that for?"

Andy looked shifty. "Uh… we'll need it to stick Sam's guts back in place…"

Silence.

Andy began to wilt under the weight of our stares.

"It's tried and tested," he stated.

More silence.

"Seriously, dudes! Can't just stitch him up and have his insides sliding about all over! It'll hurt him!" he tapped me on the forehead, shocking the hell out of me with his boldness. "How did you _think _we were gonna do it? Cement?"

Honestly, it hadn't occurred to me. I figured we'd just sew up the hole and the kid would heal just fine. Which he would, but at least with Andy's method Sam wouldn't suffer so badly… perhaps… maybe… can't say I had all that much faith, but there was little else we could do and it had to be worth a shot.

I nodded wearily. "Ok, go ahead."

Sire raised an eyebrow but said nothing. I figured several hundred years ago a werewolf with a gut injury probably just crawled into cave to hide out for a few days until the wound healed, then just got on with the rest of the hunt. But we didn't have that kind of luxury; no crawling, and no hiding out for us.

"You guys had best be prepared to hold him down," Andy replied. "This is gonna get rough."

And he wasn't wrong.

Ordinarily, I would have insisted on doing this myself, or Sire, but Andy seemed to know what he was doing and, besides, Sire and I had our hands full keeping Sam still. He's strong as a bull elephant, even when injured, and with no pain meds there was a chance he could turn lethal on a little guy like Andy.

This wasn't the first time any of us had either tended to or witnessed field surgery in our pack, but it was by far the most horrendous and gruelling. A close second had to be a silver grapping hook, shot out of an adapted harpoon gun, becoming embedded in Sam's gut. Most of the night Tobius was busy removing silver shards as quickly as he could before silver poisoning had a chance to set in; it was scary stuff and had to be painful. But, back then, Tobius had taken pity and given Sam some gaseous pain meds and wolfs bane.

But there was no silver involved here, and no such luxuries this time. Sam writhed in agony, teeth biting down on his bottom lip so hard he drew blood. Sire grabbed Sam's leather belt, pulled it through his jean loops in one hard yank, and ordered the kid to open his mouth.

Sam obeyed without question. The leather took the punishment from then onwards and it was just as well, 'cos once Andy finished flushing the mud out of Sam's guts and washing them in the ethanol, then came the most painful part.

It meant pushing his intestines back inside, coil by coil, gradually gluing each length back in place whilst making sure there were no kinks in the tubing.

I didn't care when I tasted salt water on my tongue, or when Sam's keening grew so loud my heart began a triple beat, knocking painfully against my ribs.

But I was beginning to cave.

_Sire, what about pain meds?_ I brought it up at last, already knowing the answer.

_It'd never work in time to be of any use to him, Dean, and then it will just mess him up, and all for nothing. I'm sorry, my son, but he has to deal with this without outside help. He'll be all the stronger for it, I assure you..._

Sam's misery, and ours by proxy, continued on. Hours drifted by, and the rain never let up once, endlessly drumming on the roof of the car in a weird but consistent rhythm that, by the time Andy got to the stitching stage and Sam had quietened down, sent me into a doze. Guess I hadn't realized just how tired I was.

I startled awake with a shaft of deep, painful guilt ripping though me, when I realized that dawn was trying to establish itself by fighting through the thick layers of grey clouds above. Sick, weak light crept in through the windows of the Impala, revealing Sire sprawled behind the wheel, head resting over the seat back, Andy in the front passenger seat in a similar position, and both sound asleep.

Yeah, it'd been one hell of a long night.

As for me, I was crouched in the rear passenger foot well, scrunched up like a damn pretzel and wrapped in a warm blanket. A quick glance up at Sam's face showed him sleeping just as peacefully as the other two, and I sighed tiredly. Could've used a few more hours, but I needed to check up on Sam first.

It was a testament to just how out of it I must've been: someone had kindly dressed us both in dry sweats during the night, though Sammy wasn't wearing a shirt. He didn't really need to given the mass of bandages wound round his torso.

My hand on his forehead, checking for a fever which thankfully wasn't there, elicited no more than a small frown from the kid, then his wrinkled brow smoothed out, and sleep, momentarily suspended, resumed its task of healing.

He seemed so untroubled in sleep, almost nothing like the fierce young warrior who'd faced down a powerful psychic kid and a demon the night before.

There came the creak of leather and a soft rustle of fabric from up front.

"How's he doing?" Andy spoke softly, voice a little hoarse from sleep. He'd turned around and was kneeling on the seat, arms crossed over the seat back.

"Ok, I guess," I whispered back. "Thanks to you."

"Was nothin'." Andy dismissed my thanks with a shrug.

"Ya know, you did good back there," I added after a thought, realizing I had some more thanking to do. "In the ditch, I mean. That was some quick thinking with the iron crow bar. TK, I assume?"

"Uhuh," Andy nodded, sleepily, eyelids at half mast. "Sam once told me that iron can hinder non-corporeal demons."

That surprised me. Sam and Andy obviously had a conversation about demons at some point, presumably when Sam first went after him and his twin brother. There must have been a lot these two had shared with each other in such a short space of time, but I couldn't bring myself to feel jealous. I mean, I'm Sam's brother, father _and_ best friend. I have the best of all worlds. What did it matter if Sammy had another close friend, one that could understand more of what he was going through right now than I ever could?

"Ya know, killing Ava wasn't actually on my agenda, she was just _there. _Wrong place, wrong time," said Andy, suddenly looking sad and ashamed. "But seeing as she was going to kill _us_, I'm struggling to feel too much guilt." He turned his face to gaze at me with a sad smile. "I'm guessing Sam wouldn't see it that way, though."

I studied him closely, noting the dark shadows under his eyes and the pale skin. Sooner we got him to Gerald and Josey the better.

"No. You're right, he wouldn't."

If Sam had been the one to kill Ava, by accident or otherwise, then the previous months and months of insomnia, and the running off on his own, the guilt… it would all pale in comparison. Because Sam had been trying to talk Ava round.

"_You don't belong to me or anybody! For God's sake, Ava, think about this! You're not someone's slave to give away as they see fit. You can be free. You just have to make a choice."_

Yeah, the choice that Andy made.

"Thank you again, Andy," I ruffled his hair affectionately, like I do with Sammy sometimes. "For being Sam's friend… _our_ friend."

Andy snorted softly, but looked happy all the same. "Well, I figure if you're a short ass like me, might as well be friends with a pack of non-lunars, huh? No one's gonna mess with me now."

I laughed at that. But then a thought occurred to me.

"Hey, Andy?"

"Yeah!"

"Where'd ya learn how to…" I gestured to Sam's bandaged stomach. "Ya know… with the glue and stuff."

Back came that shifty look again.

"Uh, well," Andy scratched nervously at the back of his head. "I didn't _learn_ as such."

I stared at him, not sure I wanted to hear this, but raised my eyebrows anyhow.

"I saw it in a film, once," he mumbled, but I caught it alright!

"You saw it…" I licked my lips and took a calming breath. "_What_ film?"

"Dog Soldiers," Andy grinned. "Horror genre. One of the main characters is gutted, and the field treatment involves gluing his intestines back in place."

"Never heard of it," I replied caught half way between annoyance and fascination. It was hard to get outright angry at the kid, 'cos fiction or no fiction, it definitely seemed to have made Sam a little more comfortable sooner than I would have guessed.

"Aw man, you should see that movie," Andy nodded excitedly. "You'd love it!"

My curiosity won out. I can never resist a good horror flick. "What's it about?"

"Werewolves… sort of lunar-dependent, I think," Andy replied. "It's set in the Scottish Highlands during a British Army training exercise…" he waggled his eyebrows mysteriously, and lowered his voice. "…and all goes awry!"

"Flying cows," a tired voice spoke right by my ear.

"Huh? Sammy, you awake?"

"Yeah."

"How dya feel?" I groaned and stretched, pushed up and sat on the edge of the seat, gazing down at Sam.

Sammy smiled weakly. "Sore, tired, but otherwise ok. You… g-guys?"

I understood his question. He was already falling back under, even after having only just woken up, but he would fight it until he knew we were all safe.

"We're fine, Sam." Smiling back at him, I brushed a few renegade locks of hair from his eyes. "Don't you worry 'bout us. Sleep if you need to."

That was all it took before Sam drifted off into a pain free sleep.

It seemed to be his favourite pass time of late: various states of unconsciousness.

I turned back to Andy with what must have been a puzzled frown. "Flying cows?"

Andy shrugged. "Clearly _Sam's_ seen the film."

I just stared at him for the length of a heartbeat. "You're weird! Ya know that?"

Whilst the rain held off, Sire felt it would be prudent to take advantage of the break in the weather. After what had transpired with Ava, we had some serious strategizing to do.

First order of the day was to dispose of the body, which proved more of a challenge than we would have thought possible. Tiny she may have been, but she sure sucked up water like a sponge. A salt and burn was out of the question, and after much deliberating, and some scratching of heads, it was decided to bury her as far from the road as possible. We didn't even entertain the idea of dumping her in the trunk. After all, what would we do with her after that? Take her to a motel, stick her in front of a hair dryer on full blast, and hope she dried out _before_ she began stinking the place up?

But that wasn't the only problem we faced. Or, should I say, _Tobius_ faced. I stayed behind to keep an eye on Sam whilst Andy accompanied Sire out on their short _funereal _expedition to bury Ava.

The whole area had become a veritable swamp from the rainfall. This meant we ran the risk of the body being carried down into the nearby rivers and estuaries and, God forbid, discovered should there ever be a mud slide.

Sam was sitting up in the rear seat, one arm wrapped protectively around his stomach, and wide awake by the time they made it back.

I'd just finished checking his wound over. It was healing nicely, though Sire and Andy's untimely arrival was about to compromise it.

Sam was feeling understandably down in the dumps after Ava's ambush and subsequent death. It was the usual spiel, Sammy angsting and guilting himself into depression over something that was beyond his control, to the tune of my reassurances and support, trying my damndest to pull him back out.

After finally getting a feeble laugh out of the kid when I explained how Andy felt about all this, Sam turned his head slightly to gaze out the passenger window, and his eyes widened.

"Uh, Dean?" he nudged me with an elbow. "I think you should see this."

And _boy _did I!

On the other side of the ditch, the place of Ava's last stand, two mud monsters trudged side by side along the edge. The taller one, obviously Tobius, loped along with his usual natural grace only slightly hindered by the cloying mud. The shorter one, however, appeared to be in shock and occasionally stumbled over his own mud encrusted feet. Sire reached out and caught his arm to steady him from time to time, and Andy, in a kind of daze, just dumbly nodded his thanks. But one thing was evident: neither man was talking.

They slipped and slid down the ditch wall, only just managing to stay on their feet, splashed across the muddy stream, and disappeared from view. A minute or so later, two pairs of muddy hands snaked their way over the top of the opposite ditch wall, two sets of mud framed eyes appeared right after, and with a great deal of straining – and I'm pretty sure there were a few curses thrown in for good measure – the two mud monsters hauled themselves up and over the edge.

They just stood there, staring at us. Then a muffled sounding Tobius called out, spraying mud everywhere with each syllable.

"Ifff fyou ffwouldn't fmind fpassing usfa ftowel? _Spluffffle!_"

We couldn't help it, and just stared back.

I blinked.

Sam's eyebrows slowly crept up his forehead and he shuddered from the effort of holding in his laughter. That had to hurt.

Tobius shifted, wiped a hand down his face, flicked some dark mud aside, and glared fiercely. "I say, boys? Show's over!" he paused to take a breath. _"Now get us a damn towel!"_

I jumped to it, leapt out the car and rummaged around in the boot. Just about to hand over a couple of fluffy towels, at the last moment I wrenched them back out of reach, eyes narrowed.

"Uh-uh," I shook my head. "You better get washed off in that stream first," wrinkling my nose in disgust, I added. "No one steps foot in my baby until every scrap of mud goes!"

Tobius' mouth fell open in shock and I heard Sam stifle a snort. "_What?"_

"You heard me!" I insisted, now feeling well deserving of some kind of medal for bravery. Sire's eyes glowed and his muscles tensed up, or at least from what I could see under all that mud.

We were at an impasse.

It was alpha versus beta in a duel over the Impala's honour, and I wasn't backing down.

Andy watched on with wide, fearful eyes, probably wondering if he was about to witness another fight to the death. And that's because he still didn't know all that much about Sire's sense of humour.

A deep rumble rolled forth from Sire's mouth, and then lightened up a little until it became apparent he was full on laughing.

"I should know better than to challenge the virtue of The Lady," Sire offered a small bow and a smile, at the same time gallantly clicking his heels together. He turned, clapped Andy on the back, sending a shower of mud flying, incidentally nearly knocking the poor guy off his feet, and pulled him along. "Come on lad, let's get cleaned up. Muddy water is better than none at all."

Grinning from ear to ear, I slipped behind the steering wheel, switched on the engine and cranked up the heaters.

Sam shook his head, also grinning. "You do realise there'll be a price to pay for that."

Challenging the pack alpha in front of its youngest member, _and _a human? Oh yeah. No doubt about it. But, of course, I wasn't going to admit to that out loud. I was just way too cocky.

"Not until this is all over, Sammy," I glanced over my shoulder at him, briefly. "Up to then? I'm safe. And besides, I'm sure he'd have let it g-_splurgurphle!"_

My mouth and nose was suddenly filled with mud, dripping off my ears and chin, and sliding down my neck. When I managed to clear the stuff from my eyes - without getting a single speck on the car's upholstery, of course - it was to face Sire looking smugger than I'd ever seen him look before, standing outside the driver's window.

With an almost serene smile on his face, Tobius studied me with interest, head tilted to the side and arms folded across his chest.

After a while, when he was sure he had my complete attention, he nodded. "I take it my point has been made."

I held in a growl, gracious in defeat and accepting my comeuppance, and merely bowed my head with a grin.

Sire turned and headed back towards the ditch.

"You _ever_ gonna learn Dean?" Sam murmured in amusement, shaking his head again.

I ignored the obviously rhetorical question. Sire's our alpha, but we can't resist baiting each other from time to time, especially if it gets a laugh out of Sammy.

Tobius and Andy had managed to clean off the worst in the ditch, but once they clambered back out again, there was still a fair amount of mud. It was taken care of by dipping into our bottled water supply from the trunk, followed up with the fluffy towels and some fresh clothes.

Sam glanced at Sire, eyes sad and mournful.

Tobius responded accordingly.

_We gave her the proper burial rites, young pup, and God knows that she is just another victim in all this. She can rest in peace._

It seemed to pacify Sam and even made me feel better, for some reason.

It was some hours later and we were on the road again.

"We'll have to burn these at some point," Tobius said, meaningfully, indicating their ruined clothes sitting in a plastic bag in the passenger foot well.

Andy sighed, looking pale, miserable, and still more than a little shocked. "Yeah, we got quite a lot of blood on them before… before the mud." He turned his head to gaze out the window as the scenery sped by. "Can't believe all this. First I kill a girl, and then I'm burying her body out in the wilderness like some kind of tacky serial killer."

I glanced at him in the rear view mirror. "Take it easy, kid. None of this is your fault, ok?"

Sad eyes turned my way. "Doesn't make it any easier," Andy whispered back.

And what could any of us say to that? Kid was right. His life had undergone a drastic change in the last few days, and it was about to get even more weird. I could only hope he'd see that being with the werebears was a _good_ kind of weird, for once.

Sam shuffled closer to his friend, leaning up against Andy's shoulder, offering comfort without the aid of meaningless words.

Tobius was being all thoughtful again. I could feel it, and I knew that no amount of pushing would get him to speak up before he was ready.

Fifteen miles later, as we ascended way above sea level, and the mountain roads grew steep and winding, the rain changed to sleet. A few miles after that it changed again, and snow worked its magic, turning the otherwise muddy landscape into a sparkling, white blanket.

I could feel the smile on my face. We were nearly home, just another few hundred miles or so to warmth, comfort and our friendly family of werebears.

But, as I said, Sire was being pensive, and he was about to impart his thoughts on us, whether we liked it or not.

"Stop the car," Tobius said suddenly.

"Huh?" That was the last thing I expected, but I brought the car to a gentle stop anyway. "Sire?"

"Andy," Sire turned around in his seat to regard the two youngsters. "You said the other children can track you, but not Sam."

Andy glanced at Sam nervously before answering. "Sure, y-yeah."

"Hmm," Tobius' eyes narrowed. "We can't afford to have Sam out of action again through expending all his energy on shielding us from interference."

Sam nodded tiredly. "Yeah, I don't think I have much left as it is after Ava's demon attack," he brushed hair off his forehead, and barely seem to notice when it flopped back in place over his eyes. "Sucker was strong…"

And here came the despondency. I'd spot it anywhere – it's been close friends with my son for most of his life.

"Only because you were exhausted already, Sam," I countered, determined to beat down any sense of self-doubt in the kid. "You'd been fighting off Ava's mojo, controlling the car, _and_ trying to find her and anyone else that might have been out there."

"He's right young pup," Sire added kindly. "You weren't up to full strength." He patted the kid's knee. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

Sam merely shrugged and looked away, morosely. Kid needed a break, some kind of peace just for a little while…

"I want you to take Sam and head across the mountains for the werebears," Tobius said suddenly.

I sat bolt upright at the same time I heard Sam growl from the passenger seat behind me.

It didn't take a genius to figure out there was an argument on the rise.

_**Author's Notes:**_

_**Sorry it's late. I meant to release this yesterday morning when I got home from my on call shift, but I was just too tired and fell asleep. We are also still very busy with moving house – it's rather frightening just how much there is to do, and how much crap we've managed to accumulate over the years!**_

_**Currently relaxing with a cold cider and watching Blue Thunder. My husband is snoozing away on the sofa in our old place – which is also doubling as our bed for the night since our bedroom furniture is in the new place, but the TV and home cinema system isn't yet!**_

_**Remember: entertainment must come first... priorities, people!**_

_**Cheers darlings.**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising**

**Chapter 12**

_**Now…**_

**Dean's glass is refilled, and Tobius sits down again in the same place as before.**

"**Sire, Sammy's blindness," Dean seems to be struggling to ask, as though he's not sure he wants to hear the answer. "It's not like before, ya know… when Gordon Walker…"**

"**No," Tobius sips at his own drink and stares at the carpet. "It's nothing like that. Last time, Sam was slowly being poisoned. This is vastly different."**

"**How do you mean?" Dean turned his head and stared quizzically at his father.**

**Tobius doesn't take his glowing eyes off the carpet. "**_**This**_** injury was much more… direct." Finally he raises his head and meets Dean's scared gaze. "Honestly? I've never known a werewolf to survive it, and therefore we're in uncharted waters. I just don't know, Dean, when, or even if, Sam will regain his sight."**

**Possibly to the shock of the digital watcher, Dean actually **_**whimpers **_**in distress. His head slumps forwards to rest on his knees, and his face is now hidden from shot. But the shaking shoulders are a dead giveaway to the turmoil and heartbreak within, and he doesn't turn away, or shrug off the supportive arm that warmly curls around him.**

"**Shhh, young pup," Tobius whispers. "There's still hope. There's **_**always**_** hope…"**

**Then Tobius is rocking the poor wolf to and fro, like a baby. There are tears of his own rolling down his face by now, but Tobius will keep them quiet and stealthy for the sake of his son.**

**It's a sad scene to witness. Dean is a mess and being comforted by his Sire; Sam, sick and blind, is drugged unconscious on the bed, oblivious to the way his **_**fatherbrother**_** is crying his heart out for him.**

**The watcher might begin to feel that, whatever this little pack faced together, will almost certainly never be forgotten, no matter how many centuries may pass them by.**

**And that's rather a sad thought.**

**Dean's sobs eventually quiet down and his breathing evens out. Tobius relaxes back against the bed, and his eyes, swollen and red with his own tears, slide shut.**

**Pretty soon all three wolves are sleeping quietly, two of them in an awkward position on the floor, and somewhere in the room there's a clock ticking away the seconds, minutes, **_**hours…**_

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

**During the night, the camera becomes dislodged again by what appears to be one of Dean's bare feet, whilst apparently in the throes of a rather **_**physical**_** dream.**

**The camera is at a slight angle, and one can just see the gloom of the bathroom, not far from the bed. It continues to click and whirl away to itself…**

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

**Dean snuffles and jolts awake, appears surprised to find himself draped across Tobius' lap and gently shuffles away. If his groan of discomfort doesn't tell the digital audience of his regret in sleeping on the floor, then the soft, colourful language that follows is certainly a fair indicator.**

**The peace and quiet of the room is soon further disturbed…**

_**"WHOOOOOMMUUUAAARRRPPPHHHHH…"**_

**Dean grins sheepishly at the camera. "This might come as a shock, but that noise you just heard? That was actually Sire farting!" He nods sympathetically. "Yeah, I know. Guy missed his vocation. Could've been a fog horn…"**

"**I do hope this is a prelude to getting breakfast ready," Tobius cracks open an eye. The eye swivels towards the camera and gleams with amusement. "I do apologize for the early morning wake up call, ladies and gentlemen."**

**Dean hangs his head on a sigh. "You do actually realize there **_**is**_** no audience? Except the camera? It's just us, dude."**

**Tobius' other eye opens. "I'm more than aware of that, **_**dude**_**, but who knows where these digital chronicles will end up some day? Who will be watching and listening?" He shrugs, gets up, pats Dean on the chest, and heads into the bathroom.**

**He pauses and turns at the last moment, as if someone has silently called to him. Dean's smiling softly back at him, as though in thanks, which is answered with a returning fond grin and a nod before the bathroom door closes. The air is cleared, it seems. An understanding, of sorts, reached.**

"**He hasn't lost his touch, huh, Dean?" says Sam, sleepily. "And to think you used to be the King of Hot Air. I swear you're a bad influence on him."**

**Dean moves swiftly, then the camera shifts as he fiddles with the focus and resettles it on the night stand. It's now watching over the bed; its occupant's face can just be made out, but the eyelids are hooded, shielding his eyes from the camera.**

"**How long you been awake, Sam?" Dean asks, gently touching a hand to his **_**brotherson's**_** forehead.**

**Sam appears to blink slowly. "Not long," he rolls his head into Dean's hand, as though the contact in part made up for his lack of sight. "Dean…"**

"**Don't," Dean's order is sharp, daring Sam to disobey.**

_**Of course**_** he dares. He wouldn't be Sam otherwise.**

"**No, we need to talk about…" Sam swallows and nearly gags on the words but forces them out. "About what we'll do if I can't… can't **_**see**_**. Please, don't fob me off; **_**I**_** need to talk about this."**

**Dean sighs wearily. "Yeah, I know. And we will, I promise, so long as you promise **_**me **_**you won't give up hope. You're still very sick…" he coughs, almost chokes, as though it causes him physical pain to say it. "But nothing's set in stone, Sammy. We of all people should know that."**

**Sam's nod is slight, weary, but still a nod. "Ok," he whispers.**

"**Good boy," says Dean. His hand, once pressed against Sam's forehead, now brushes down the side of the kid's face. "You hungry, kiddo?"**

"**Not really."**

"**You should eat something. Didn't finish your food last night."**

"**Oh yeah? Bet I can guess who **_**did**_**," but Sam gives a weak chuckle as he says it.**

"**What can I say?" Dean grins at his sleepy **_**brotherson.**_** "I'm still a growing boy."**

"**Excuses, excuses," Sam shakes his head gently in amusement. "So… how's the latest journal entry coming along?" and ends the inquiry with a wide yawn.**

**Dean laughs softly and glances at the camera. "Ah well…"**

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Then…**_

I rested my tongue against my top lip for a second.

"And you'll be _where_ exactly?" I asked, a suspicion forming. To say I was pissed could be considered an understatement.

"It's not safe for Sam to be with Andy until... Sam gets his strength back." Sire stated bluntly, as though that justified everything.

I knew what that near slip of the tongue was all about. He _meant_ until Andy was turned by Gerald or Josey and subsequently removed from the demonic radarscope.

"Andy and I will proceed by car," Sire finished, staring right at me and daring me to disagree.

Proceed by car, translated as _bait_. Tobius would protect Andy should the other kids show up looking for Sam, all the while keeping the heat off us. And I downright _hated_ that idea.

I frowned and clenched my jaw. _Sire…_

_We'll be fine, Dean._

_No way! _I could feel Sam's haunted gaze boring into the back of my neck. _I remember all too well what happened the **last** damn time we split up! You were gone for months, and we thought you were __**dead**__! You hear me? Fucking DEAD!_

Sire growled loudly, and we both ignored Andy's small flinch. Kid was watching the both of us very closely, obviously sensing the conflict but wisely staying out of it.

_Now listen to me! _Tobius snapped out. _I know we've never said it outright, but Sam, as the youngest, is and always has been the sole priority of this pack, along with you as his fatherbrother, protector and future pack alpha! _He breathed heavily through flared nostrils and attempted to calm his temper. _You need each other far more than you need me._

Sam and I just froze. Until a shaking hand crept onto my shoulder, and I realized it was Sammy seeking my reassurance. Didn't need to turn my head to know there were tears in his eyes, so I just tightly covered his hand with mine.

Sire deflated, as though sensing the damage he'd just caused.

_What I meant to say, _Tobius tried again, more gently, perhaps going for a more tactful approach this time. _Is that my first priority as pack alpha is the safety of my kin, and you two are all I have left in the world. I love you both too much to lose you, and if keeping you pups safe means giving up my own life then I will do it willingly… _he nodded, eyes glowing with pride and love …_**gladly**._

We were still frozen, but there was now something wet leaking from the corners of my eyes and my heart thumped painfully. John had never said that to us in all those years as his sons. We were just a part of his hunt and obsession, and nothing more.

Damn heating vents. There are only two settings on my baby's heater: 'cold' and 'roasting'. Was probably why my damn eyes were watering… hot air and all that… yeah…

"In any case," Tobius smiled, reached out and brushed the tears from Sam's face, but thankfully refrained from doing the same for me. "I think it's about time Andy and I got to know each other properly."

"And I did ok up against Ava, right guys?" Andy finally spoke up, and at just the right time too. Kid was learning. "We can handle anything else these brats throw at us."

He definitely didn't seem worried about being left alone with a virtual stranger, but then maybe he'd seen the dark shadows under Sam's eyes, the weary slump to his shoulders, and somehow understood his friend badly needed to change.

Tobius glanced proudly at Andy. _He'll make a magnificent werebear._

And suddenly Sam and I realized another part of his reasoning. He was going to have a _chat_ with our human friend.

But aloud, he said. "So, you two make your way over the mountains, stick to the forests and away from the roads. Keep as straight a line as you can." _Relax, and enjoy the journey. Get your strength back. _"Andy and I will see you there in a week or so. Though we'll probably meander round to knock anyone off our scent who may be following, so don't fret if we aren't there when you arrive." _And you two also need to talk..._

You're probably wondering why Sam doesn't talk to Andy about werebear status. Fact is, protocol dictates that the pack alpha should be the one to make the request, or recommendation, in these matters. In Jess' case, Sam would have popped the question in the usual manner, but it would have been Tobius who formally invited her into the pack, as it was Tobius who had contacted another distant pack with the requests to turn Jess in the first place… all of which never came to pass, sadly. And I got the feeling this was a little of what he had in mind: talking to Sam about Jess.

"So," Tobius murmured a while later. Sam and I handed over our clothes, and watched him fold them neatly, with so much care and attention that my eyes began stinging in the cold wind. "Long journey ahead of you both."

Huh. Small talk. And we were a little grateful for it.

It really was a cold wind, complete with flurries of snow, whipping up into almost blizzard proportions. And in spite of this parting, I confess I was looking forward to the journey. By the shifting of Sam's feet, I have to say he felt the same, though the sad gleam in his eyes told me he'd rather it was under better circumstances.

Who didn't?

It didn't sit right with me, letting my Sire and alpha take off without us, but every time we tried to talk him out of it, Tobius reminded us of all the reasons why it was necessary.

_For Sam's sake – he needs to change, get out and hunt._

_To keep Sam safe – he can't be around Andy right now._

_For Andy's safety – we can't take him out into the wilderness with us. As a human he wouldn't survive the harsh elements. And we can't very well let him go it alone on the road either. Jake caught up to him once and nearly killed him. The next time there won't be any 'nearly' about it._

_Plus, Andy needs to be advised of his… **options**._

There was no getting round it. Sire had made up his mind, and nothing we said or did was going to change it.

Sam changed first and, though his gut wound was virtually healed by now, it must have still been a little sore. He whined softly, padded over to his grandfather and rubbed his large furry body up against him until the guy went down on one knee. Sire buried his nose in Sam's fur, then pressed his mouth to the young wolf's tall, spiky ear and whispered something I couldn't make out. All I heard was Sam's response.

_You know I will. I won't let you down._

_There's __**never**__ been a question of that, young pup._

It was none of my business, what was said between grandpa and grandson, but I could guess. No doubt, Sire asked Sam to watch my back.

Then, it was my turn to say goodbye. I know this seems like a lot of drama for just a few days separation, but the last time we thought that, it turned into months. You never can tell what's just round the corner, waiting to ambush your plans at the very last second. All you can do is play your hand, and hope that you've covered every eventuality. Sometimes, even that just aint' enough.

Tobius rubbed a hand over my ears and down my back, ruffling the thick fur gently, then smoothing it down again.

_I meant what I said. Make sure you both have a good time out there. Eat well, get plenty of sleep when you can… and try not to worry about us._

_Tall order, Father. It's kinda my job to worry about you…_

He interrupted with _it's all our jobs to be worrying about each other, but when the worry becomes too much it will hinder rather than help. You must learn to know the difference, and how to deal with it before depression develops in its wake._

Believe it or not, I understood exactly what he was saying and knew where he was coming from. This wasn't just about safety, or talks with Andy… this was another one of life's lessons Tobius was determined to impress on us.

I just hoped I could learn fast.

_Take your time. There's no rush, Dean. This isn't something that can be learned overnight, _Sire whispered knowingly in my head. _But practice makes perfect._

Andy gave us both a fierce hug, muttering something about staying safe and bringing back some moose antlers as a souvenir. I listened with wry amusement as Tobius politely informed the boy that this was the wrong county for moose, but conveyed that, perhaps, I could pick up some deer antlers instead.

Andy just laughed, gave us another hug each and stepped back.

Sam sat back on his haunches, awaiting the order, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Now the idea was firmly implanted, the youngster was eager to get away. I could tell that from the shivering of his body, the quirk of his ears, twitching of his big black nose, and the soft whimpers and growls he just couldn't hold back.

Unable to stay, and at the same time reluctant to leave, he could hear what I also heard. The call of the wild beckoned us both and she's a hard lady to disappoint.

Strangely, Sire didn't seem so affected, but then I guess he's had eight hundred years of learning how to control the need.

_Go, my young pups._

That was all we needed to hear.

After a long loud _Hollywood howl_, as Sam had dubbed it a long time ago, and which had Andy giggling with delight, we sped away into the forests and snowy mountains.

Now it may have surprised you that I was happy to leave my baby behind under the care of Tobius. Well, what can I say? Pranks and jokes aside, I trust the guy to look after her. And besides, Sam's emotional and physical health always comes first. The Impala can be fixed when she goes wrong but, in spite of being a werewolf, Sammy ain't always so easy to put back together.

The change had done him the world of good. His healing gut had barely protested during the transformation, and I silently thanked Andy's skill with Bio Glue and knowledge of English werewolf movies. Without it, Sam might still have been suffering, and the healing would have taken longer.

Being out like this, free of all clothing, camping equipment and such, didn't necessarily mean we'd being eating our meat raw. As I might have once mentioned, Sam's Boy Scout camping skills meant we could light a fire and cook our night's kill if we wanted. And though there was bad storm coming our way, we could easily catch the scent of our prey amongst the trees and snowdrifts.

But there was still some daylight left, and we decided to make the most of it.

Raising my snout and taking a long hard sniff, I narrowed my eyes, let my internal compass settle and pick out the direction we needed, then turned to Sam.

_You ready to go home, Sammy?_

Blue-green eyes glowed with excitement and the lust for a great outdoors adventure.

_Hell yeah!_

We climbed snowdrifts, scrambled over hills, clambered up steep ravines, splashed across icy streams and rivers, scared the living crap out of a few ring tails taking shelter in a couple of snow laden sycamores, then passed on through laughing our asses off when they squawked angrily at us. We weren't after racoons. Too easy for the likes of us. We know every trick they can pull and then some.

Hell, maybe Tobius taught their ancestors a thing or two, once upon a time.

A glance over at Sam as we high-pawed it through a snow covered copse nearly made me laugh a out loud.

Ears back, eyes half closed against the wind and snow flakes, jowls flopping up and down with each agile bound, shaggy tail moving to balance him perfectly in mid flight over a fallen log… my heart swelled with pride.

Sam's a fine looking wolf, but that wasn't the reason behind my _little moment_.

He looked happy,_ free_, in a way I hadn't seen him look before, not even during our visits to Tobius special place – that place where I meditate, 'fish' for and eat cooked trout…

…and we really have to think up a proper name. Can't keep calling it our 'special place'. Sounds like a Godamned sexual connotation, like a euphemism for the multiple orgasm or something.

Oh and by the way? Male werewolves can totally do that. Have _and_ give multiple orgasms… so ya know…

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Now…**_

"**Uh… Dean?" Sam's head shifts and rolls on his pillow. "You wanna try staying on subject? 'Cos you're making me a little uncomfortable here. I mean, I know I can't see you, but I **_**can**_** hear **_**and**_** imagine that smug look on your face… it's a little creepy, not to mention sickening."**

**Dean grins. "As Tobius said, we don't know whose hands these journals will fall into one day," the eyebrows go for a good hard waggle, and somehow Sam's sigh suggests he knows this is going on. "I mean, it could end up at the playboy mansion or something…"**

**Sam bites down on his bottom lip, mouth twitching. He's obviously trying not to laugh.**

"**Yeah, 'cos that's sure likely," Sam murmurs, sarcastically. "Just get on with the entry."**

"**Spoil sport!" Dean grumbles out his response.**

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Then…**_

We made good time but it became apparent by sundown that Sammy wasn't entirely one hundred percent yet. He was tiring, and the slight limp suggested he was in pain and trying to hide it.

_Let's stop for a few hours, huh? We can carry on again in the early hours, Sam._

For once he didn't argue, just hung his head wearily and _wuffled_ his agreement.

_C'mon kiddo._

We found a good spot by some fallen trees. It acted like a natural lean-to, offering shelter from the wind and snow. The perfect den for us.

I herded Sam inside and gently pushed at him with my muzzle. _Go_. _Lay down. I'll go hunt us down some food; you just get some rest, huh?_

Sam obeyed instantly, head resting heavily on his paws and peered up at me. _If you pick up some kindling, I can start a fire. It'll be sheltered enough from the snow, but it shouldn't smoke us out, and we can have cooked meat._

Sam likes raw meat, don't get me wrong, but tonight he obviously felt the need for some hot food. Like a comfort thing, perhaps, 'cos we don't feel the cold so much, in either wolf _or_ human form.

_You sure you ain't too tired to change for that, Sammy?_

He snorted softly. _I can just do a hand and arm change. S'all I need._

I eyed him, carefully. He certainly seemed happy enough, just dog tired – no pun intended – and hungry. And that had to be a good sign.

_If you're sure…_

I returned a short while later, about twenty minutes judging my Rolex (a gift from Sire. All three of us have one, and we can use the internal homing devices to track each other. They are specially made for us so that the wrist strap will expand and contract with our changes. That way, we never have to remove them – see previous journal entries).

In human form for now, my arms were full of twigs and leaves I'd found whilst nosing around the fallen trees. There was an abundance of kindling just dry enough for our purposes sitting under the dead limbs, so I'd eagerly changed, scooped them up and brought them back to our den for the night.

After a quick check that Sam had everything he needed, I changed and headed out on the night's hunt.

I emerged victorious in the den an hour later, with a mouthful of Snowshoe Hare. In spite of its camouflaging white winter coat and large hind feet for quick getaways, it certainly did not _getaway_ from _me_. I'd waited, still and quiet, in a thicket of bushes for over thirty minutes for this bastard to hop a little closer, and my patience had paid off. I nabbed him round the neck, one quick squeeze ensured a clean, humane break, and Mr Hare fell limp and ready for chow time.

Sam glanced up from his work. He was twisting a piece of wood between his hands, drilling it downwards into a thin scrap of bark. I was surprised to see him in full human form.

"It felt a little more comfortable," he must have seen the question on my face. "Kinda stretches my gut too much if I'm in both forms at once."

"Just be careful where the sparks fly, Sammy," I smirked. "Werewolf or not, that'll hurt, I promise you."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "Only you, huh, Dean?"

"I _am_ one of a kind," I admitted, unashamedly.

The bark caught, and Sam quickly set about fuelling the spark into a flame. I watched, maybe a little mesmerised, as Sam nurtured the tiny flame, feeding and encouraging it with deft, gentle hands. It made me smile just to watch him, so intent and earnest with his task, well… that's pretty much my Sammy all over. It's that gentle kindness, and fierce devotion to his family that would stand him in good stead, and make him a good… no… _great_ father one day…

"What you smiling at?"

When I looked up, surprised at how far my thoughts had drifted, Sam was watching me, with a small smile of his own.

I considered brushing off his question, or even out right lying, but something in me was dying to answer him with a question of my own.

"Sam, can I ask you something?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Sure, you know you can ask me anything."

"You think maybe you and Jess," I watched a little sadly when Sam's body tensed up and his eyes filled with pain. But I pressed on. We needed to have this conversation one way or another, "woulda had kids someday?"

Sam dropped his head and took a breath. "Yeah," he whispered. "I mean, we talked about a _someday_, sure."

"And?" I prompted, hating myself for this.

"And what?" his head shot up at the same time as he snapped at me. "You wanna know how we talked about raising a pack of our own?" tears glistened in the firelight, sliding down his face. "With you as Grandpa Dean, our pups sitting all round you by the fire and listening to your stories, hanging on every word? And T-Tobius, the p-proud great-grandfather…? Yeah, we talked about it…" Sam's harsh voice softened and dropped to a heartbreaking whisper. "Yeah, we talked about a _someday,_ alright."

Perhaps my instincts were wrong and he wasn't ready for this after all. Seeing the hurt I'd reawakened in him sent guilt pounding through my veins.

I know you're probably sitting there and fuming at me, and I don't blame you, but honestly, I was just trying to help him. Some things need to be talked over, brought out into the open, like lancing a particularly painful boil. But this was gonna take _time_, which we now had in truck loads.

"Aw, Sammy," I whispered and caught his chin in my hand. "I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He sniffed and another tear rolled down his cheek. "Nah. S'not you. None of what happened is your fault, Dean. I just…" he stifled a small sob "…I can't believe that it can end that way. Ya know? When Tobius told us about his Lady Anna, I was shocked, yeah, but later on I comforted myself with the thought that maybe it wasn't really true love, 'cos surely God wouldn't be that cruel, right?" he shook his head, closing his eyes. "But I was just deluding myself. God _is _that cruel. He gave me true love, and as soon as I was flying high, he took it away again… took _Jess _away. Forever."

Shit. He was losing hope and I couldn't allow that to happen. He deserved better.

"No…Sam…" I couldn't let the kid lose his faith in God either. Not like this. Not because of ol' yellow eyes, and surely not because of some piece of shit like Gordon Walker. Grabbing his arms and forcing him to look at me, I dipped my head and gazed into his eyes. "Listen to me. This wasn't down to God, ok? You heard what Tobius said the night he returned to us. Jess got caught in the cross-fire. There was nothing you could have done, anymore than there was for Tobius when Lady Anna was killed. Through no fault of his own he was too far away to stop it, and by the time he finally got there, his daughter – _our sister_ – was dead too. Things just happen, Sammy, and life moves on whether we want it to or not. We can't change the past, but we can look _forward_."

I stroked the hair at the side of his head. "And I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I'm gonna say it anyway," I drew in a breath and spoke my peace. "You will find love again, Sam. Ok, so she won't be Jess, maybe she won't have the same hair or eye colour, or even the same personality, but she'll be someone equally cool and worthy of you. And Jess wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life in mourning for her."

"I-I d-don't want anyone else…" he stuttered out, eyes wide with something akin to fear.

"I know you don't right now, but you will, kid. You will," I smiled at him. "Now c'mon. Time to feast on the over-sized bunny rabbit, huh?"

Sam managed only a small, sad huff of laughter. But it was a start.

It wasn't quite what I'd had in mind, as the conversation went, but it served its purpose. Sam had really listened, and that meant he realized he still had a future.

_**Author's Notes:**_

_**Many, many thanks to Phx for her wonderful beta work. I don't think I've thanked her enough. All mistakes are mine, however, due to my incessant tinkering.**_

_**Now...**_

_**Sorry to harp on like an ungrateful bitch, but...**_

_**I **_**had**_** been considering a third book to this 'verse, but given the rapidly declining number of reviews on this one, I'm not so sure it'll be worth all the hard work and effort. Sorry guys, but if the current trend continues, then I'll be lucky to scrape ten reviews a chapter by the time I post chapter 20. That's extremely sad, given that it started out with almost 30 reviews a chapter.**_

_**It's also a little soul destroying that some of the readers of the first book, who badgered me constantly about the second, promised they'd be on board with it yet I've heard nothing from them. Not a dickybird.**_

_**So I'll finish this story purely for the sake of the people who have been kind enough to take the time to leave a review for each chapter, giving me the support and encouragement I so desperately need. There are another 8 chapters already written and beta'd, with a few more planned before the finale, so you won't be left hanging, I promise.**_

_**Once again, my sincere apologies go out to those who may feel disappointed, but I just don't think a third book is on the cards.**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	13. Chapter 13

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising**

**Chapter 13**

**Author's notes: Apologies, but some serious historical, geographical and biological liberties have been taken in these next few chapters.**

_**Now…**_

_**Click. **_

"**It's been a few days since the last journal entry, and Sam's doing much better," Tobius leans into the lens, huffs long and hard, clouding the glass, then a uses a soft cloth to polish. The ancient werewolf regards his handy work critically.**

"**The boys will be back any second," he says, clearing his throat, quietly. "They both needed some fresh air and the diner's only fifty feet away. Sam in particular seemed to perk up at the suggestion of a late morning constitutional, and though I'm sure he won't have consumed much at lunch, a little sunshine will do him the world of good."**

**Tobius sighs. "I stayed behind to make some calls. Sam's sight will likely not return," his haunted gaze locks on the camera. "At least not without help. I know of some healers that **_**may**_** be of assistance," he pinches the bridge of his nose and blinks. "But there are no guarantees. As I said to Dean, to my knowledge this is the first time a non lunar has survived such a grievous injury."**

**Green eyes flare brightly and the werewolf shifts closer, but his voice is flat and emotionless. **

"**Put bluntly, Sam should have died that night..."**

**A quick worried glance at the door has him shaking his head, though the digital watcher can't hear a thing. "We'll continue this discussion another time, perhaps."**

**A few seconds later, the motel room door opens to reveal Dean leading a stumbling Sammy gently by the arm and laughing softly.**

**Tobius gets to his feet, a genuine smile on his face. "I see you two have been shopping." **

**The youngest wolf is clad in a stylish pair of very dark wraparound shades, Ray Bans in fact, and is actually smiling self-consciously. "Yeah, Dean got me these as a surprise gift. Told me he was going to the restroom."**

**Tobius eyes Dean curiously, but without judgment. "You left him in the diner alone?"**

**Dean shakes his head. "Nah, they were selling them at the front of the diner amongst all the tourist souvenirs." **

**If his Sire is wondering how he managed to get hold of designer sunshades in a tin-pot diner, he doesn't say it, though a pointed glance at the cheap, plastic pair balanced on Dean's head suggests he's not fooled. The pair that Sam is wearing suddenly seems **_**very **_**familiar.**

**Dean mouths **_**"not a word", **_**and hands over a bag heavy with grease. "I got you some lunch."**

**Following Dean's lead, Tobius stares at the bag with a faint look of disgust on his face. **

"**If lunch is supposed to consist of Shell's latest oil find..." he mutters, takes the bag in two fingers, keeping it at arm's length and as far away from his nose as possible.**

**Dean shrugs, grins, and doesn't take offence, just continues to guide his **_**brotherson**_** through the door.**

**Sam is as uncoordinated as a new born foal, understandably clumsy, and obviously tired out. Each wobbly step he takes into the room is hesitant and short, legs shaky and locked at the knees.**

"**Here ya go... right here, easy does it," Dean helps Sam to his bed and sits him down. "You ok, buddy?" he whispers softly, hand cupping the back of Sam's head when it bobs uncertainly on his neck.**

"**Yeah," the kid answers quietly. "Just tired, is all."**

"**Just tired, huh?" Dean replies, sceptically, and that tone of voice, coupled with the look on his face, is easy to interpret.**

**Try **_**exhausted.**_

**The **_**fatherbrother **_**begins casually chatting away about how hot the waitress was on a scale of one to ten and speaks with admiration about her cup size, whilst Sam removes his jacket. Dean sounds unconcerned and happy, but the look in his eyes is a dead giveaway. He's busy fixing a batch of fresh coffee, at the same time watching his **_**brotherson**_** worriedly, especially when the youngster yawns and sways sleepily in his place on the bed.**

"**Hmm." Tobius muses, kindly, and squeezes Sam's shoulder. "Looks like you've over done it, young pup. I hope you had plenty to eat – you need to rebuild your strength."**

"**He had a chocolate milkshake, a cheese omelette and some of my bacon," says Dean, folding his arms across his chest and looking every inch the proud father. "That's a step up from yesterday."**

**Tobius seems amused, but not surprised. "You shared your bacon, Dean?"**

"**Forced it on my plate and wouldn't let me leave the table until I'd eaten is more like it," Sam answers with a soft, but grateful smile.**

"**You needed the protein," says Dean, matter-of-factly, crouching down and unlacing Sam's boots. "And now you need your sleep even more," he adds when Sam yawns widely again and winces in pain. "Chest still hurting, kiddo?"**

**Sam shakes his head but the blood draining away from his face reveals the lie. Without another word, just a roll of the eyes, his **_**fatherbrother**_** assists in carefully changing him into his sleep clothes.**

**Sam turns his head away from the camera and removes the shades, handing them over to his grandfather.**

**Wrapping an arm around the kid's waist, Dean lifts him up against his chest as though he weighs little more than a feather pillow. Whilst Sam gratefully clings on to Dean's upper arms, Tobius turns down the bed, ready for Dean to deposit the youngster gently under the blankets.**

"**Sleep well, little wolf," Dean whispers, but Sam is already fast asleep.**

"**He... uh..." Dean glances at the camera and scratches the back of his head. "Sam doesn't want his eyes caught on film. He's a little self conscious right now."**

"**Nothing new there then." Tobius pats him on the shoulder. "I've got some things to do, people to speak with, so I'll leave you both in peace for the afternoon." He tips his head to one side and regards his son rather sternly. "And make sure **_**you**_** get some rest!"**

**Dean tucks the blanket under Sam's chin and climbs on the bed next to him, grabbing the camera. "Soon as I've got this entry in the can, I'll catch some Zs."**

**Tobius rolls his eyes, mutters "**_**In the can indeed!"**_** and heads for the door.**

**Dean balances the camera on his stomach just as he gently pulls Sam's head onto his shoulder. Soft curls framing delicately slanted and firmly closed eyes can just be seen by Dean's neck.**

"**So, there we were, just the two of us, running in the wilderness like a scene straight out of Where the Red Fern Grows..."**

_**Now…**_

_You ok there, Sammy?_ I risked a brief glance back at him, but carried on kicking my legs against the current. We were crossing the river to the north, more or less running parallel to the road Sire would have taken, but sooner or later we would leave it behind and follow a narrow, little known trail through the mountains.

_Yeah, this is great!_ Sam answered with a big stupid grin of happiness. Kid always did love the water. His ears were almost flattened against the back of his neck, eyes half shut against the spray, and the water churned where his powerful, huge paws pounded it into submission. A small wave smacked him in the face, making him choke and splutter, but still it didn't remove the silly grin. As his father, I'm allowed to admit when he's being all cute and cuddly, and right then he made the Easter Bunny look like Jigsaw.

_Hey Dean! I think there's salmon in this river! See? Up ahead!_

He was right. Though the temperature continued to plummet the higher we climbed, the cloudy skies had cleared to reveal a deep, high blue, a bright, hot sun, and the promise of a starry sky when it set later that evening. A flash of pink and gold in the distance caught by the sun, and the water sparkling like diamonds, had us moving a little closer.

_They're migrating up river. _Sammy whispered, as though afraid of disturbing their important journey. _Heading back to their native river for somewhere safe to lay their eggs._

_Thank you for the nature class, Sir David Attenborough._ I joked.

Sam used his muzzle to splash some water at me, but I ducked away laughing.

We watched in awe, our paws gently treading water at a discrete distance. This wasn't something we got to see every day and didn't want to intrude. It's not like we hadn't already fed that morning, after all, so it was decided to leave these hard working creatures to their death-defying race for life. Besides, once the mating season's over I was pretty sure there was a net somewhere with all their names on it.

When we reached the other river bank and clambered out, Sam and I both took a deep breath and shook our bodies from head to tail, wringing as much water from our heavy fur as possible.

_C'mon let's twist again, like we did last summer! _I sang, gleefully. _Sammy you know the words..._

_Dude, I'm not singing..._ Sam replied, dipping his head self-consciously.

_S'only us here, kiddo. Whose to know?_

_Uh... the trees? Squirrels? Birds?_ _And that's just to start with..._

_Pretty sure they won't tell anyone, Sam. Now, c'mon..._

I shook again, hard, and bounced all around him in a circle until the kid couldn't stop laughing.

..._let's twist again..._

Sammy gave in and, with a loud bark, joined me in a song. That meant there were two wolves dancing around on the riverbank like a couple of lunatics, shaking water from our fur and howling loudly at the top of our lungs. Anyone watching would surely have been checking for foam at our mouths.

Of course, the lyrics soon degenerated into another version of the song...

_We're pissed again, like we were last summer,_

_Ohhh we're pissed again, like we were last year..._

Which had Sammy almost choking on his own long tongue, he was laughing so hard.

We must have looked ridiculous, but by the time we were dry enough for comfort we'd ploughed our way through the Hippie Hippie Shake, utterly ruined The Locomotion, and defiled, desecrated, and decapitated Dire Strait's Twisting by the Pool.

Or, to put it another way, the only reason Simon Cowell would have us put on American Idol, would be to face a firing squad for murdering some of the classics.

With a loud, contented, but breathless groan, Sam collapsed and rolled onto his back in the grass. I watched fondly as the young wolf wiggled his hind quarters from side to side, paws up and out, his downy soft belly soaking up the sunshine and tail thumping the riverbank. Sam shook his head from side to side, ears twitching back and forth, then stopped and glanced over at me.

_Ya know, when this is all over? Promise me something? _He asked, softly.

_Anything, Sammy, you know that. _I trotted over and gently pawed at him.

_We take a long, long, longlong, __**long**__ break away from the world, from the hunt. Just the three of us, like this, sleeping under the stars, or sheltering from the rain under fallen trees… just... __**simple. **_

He must have been serious to over use the word _long_ like that. Frankly, I'm not surprised the poor kid wanted to get away from humans and all their messed up shit for a while. We'd _all_ been used and abused in some way over the years, Tobius included, but Sam had suffered the most out of all of us.

But when he looked at me, _right then_, eyes bright with pain and love, I'd have been happy just to take him away into the wilderness and live as wolves forever, never changing back, and never _turning_ back.

It was a fruitless idea, because we both knew there _was_ actually much about the human world we would miss, but _right then_ I just couldn't think of a single one.

_Sounds like a good plan to me, Sam. Somehow I think Sire won't object either, _I answered at last. _Now c'mon, there's plenty more to see and explore and we might as well make the most of this trip, huh?_

Sammy eagerly scrambled up on to his paws and snuffled against my ears. _Cool!_

That day held many surprises for us.

Sam, ever the curious young wolf, had been sniffing around in the undergrowth, snout caught by a fresh new smell.

Unfortunately, he frightened a family of skunks into doing the unthinkable, nearly wiping out his sense of smell for several hours. The indignant mommy-skunk, protecting her young, had growled and twittered angrily at a surprised Sammy, bent her body into a 'U' shape, and… _let it rip_.

Sam had spluttered out a mournful howl, dropped to his belly and wrapped his front paws round his nose.

_That hurt! _he'd whined, pathetically. _Dean! I can't feel my snout!_

_Serves you right for being nosey! _I'd laughed, but in a show of solidarity, and protecting my own pup, I bared my teeth, hackles up, and body puffed up to twice its usual size. I made my stand against the angry critter.

To my own detriment, as it turned out.

I instantly regretted my cocky response to Sam's discomfort when the skunk scuttled nearer, within clawing distance just for a second, and let those little anal glands go to work… right in my face!

By the time the fog had cleared and we could think let alone _see _properly, she'd had it away with her youngsters and disappeared into the brush.

Guess I couldn't blame her, but _my God! _I think my nasal hairs still carry the scars of that unscheduled meeting to this very day. I know that Sammy can't even _look_ at a Whoopee cushion without wincing.

And that's the reason I lay the blame of what followed firmly at the door of that damn skunk. If I could ever find her, that is.

As I said, our nostrils took quite a pounding and it was going to be some hours before they were back up to par. Perhaps I should have insisted we took the rest of the day off to recover, but we were both eager to meet up with Tobius, in spite of how much we didn't want this particular journey to end.

It was approaching dusk. The forests were thick, lush shadows of darkness against the mountains, with flecks of snow nestled in the canopy. The sky was a mass of starlight, a breathtaking display of planets, constellations, and the faint wisps of white cloud here and there. It was kind of magical, and reminded me of a night, many years before, when Sammy and I had sat on a mountain top above our cabin and family home, and watched the world below. It was that night when I had _Hollywood Howled_ for the first time at Sammy's insistence. A night I will always treasure most among the memories of my boy's early days of wolfhood.

As we drew nearer, silently discussing our evening's hunt for food, I sensed something change around us, but nothing I could put my paw on.

_Sam, stop!_

He didn't question me, just did as asked and crouched low on his haunches in the long grass, ears just peaking over the top.

A tiny rustle in the forest up ahead, deep inside the tree line, had me fixing and narrowing my eyes on that very spot, and waiting patiently until…

_There. Ya see that?_

Sam huffed softly in agreement. _Yeah. Can't believe we didn't spot the signs. Even without our snouts working at full power, these guys must have been silent as the grave!_

There, deep in the shadows came movement, a flash of silver and glowing eyes, before it was gone. Now that our own eyes had adjusted, we could see dull shapes moving through the trees, slinking stealthy as the falling night towards us.

_Uh oh._ Sam whispered. _I think they've caught our scent._

I smirked. Given what transpired earlier with the skunk...

_I'd say they've had our scent for a while, Sammy. It's just a question of what they want with us._

_Really wish you hadn't said that, dude._

_I know. Just take it easy, and follow my lead._

We weren't worried as such. A grey wolf pack, all the way out here? Not exactly a surprise, and even less a shock that they'd cottoned on to us straying through their territory.

Would they fight us? Or just observe and let us pass?

But there was _something_ about this pack, something wonderfully and yet, at the same time, _terrifyingly _familiar.

They emerged as one from the forest, but there were two that stood out from the rest. The alpha was unmistakable, in all his magnificence. A long slender snout, silver tipped ears, and deep glowing green eyes. He was easily as tall as Tobius, taller than me, and definitely taller than Sam. By his side stood a slightly smaller wolf, eyes narrowed with suspicion, teeth almost bared, hackles raised.

Oh yeah. This guy, probably the same age as me, was obviously the pack beta and bodyguard for the alpha. I recognized the look, the body poised and ready for a battle to the death.

_Dean, these guys… _Sam gulped a little nervously.

And yeah, he had a right to be nervous. 'Cos these weren't just _any_ wolves.

_I know, they're non lunars. Just don't make any sudden moves, ok?_

_Yeah._

We couldn't take them, wouldn't even be worth the effort of trying. There were too many of them for a start. We'd be torn to pieces in seconds, and judging by some of the older ones, with their graceful moves and unblinking eyes I guessed that time could be halved. The alpha and beta alone would be one hell of a challenge, but the entire pack?

Not a chance.

We were gonna have to engage in what Tobius often referred to as _political negotiations, _though in his defence it was said with tongue well and truly wedged in cheek.

In the human world I called it _bullshit and bluff, _though this was gonna need handling with kid gloves. These guys may have been wild non lunars but they weren't stupid.

_Just remember Sam, they're part of a pack, which means they aren't strays. They won't attack unless we give them cause._

Sam shifted a little, the grass moving with him. _Yeah, somehow I don't find that comforting. I mean, invading their territory kinda __**is**__ giving them cause! Tobius would have torn them apart by now had the roles been reversed._

And that was true enough.

But I could tell he was in as much awe as me. We'd heard of such things. Tobius had told us once that in the distant past it was considered common place to find entire packs of non-lunar werewolves living in the wilderness, but when I say _distant_, I mean over a millennia ago.

Most left it all behind to mix with humans with the intention to either breed or, in the case of a true stray, to feed.

Sadly, hunting, superstition and general starvation had made _home_ _wolves,_ as Tobius called them, virtually extinct, with some packs either wiped out completely, or alphas taking the decision to pack up the family china, as it were, and move to the city for a better _safer_ life for their pups.

It was the usual story, the same you can read in any wildlife magazine about foxes driven from the country and feeding out of human garbage cans. Except that non-lunars usually didn't have to sink quite that low.

There certainly weren't many _home _packs left these days, and the chance to see one up close for real was one that only came along once in a lifetime, even for immortals like us. _Home_ _wolves _don't trust city non lunars or even the semi- nomadic ones like us, and I can't say I blame them. These are the places that procure the strays, after all, corrupting the honour of their kind, and strays are the reasons behind some of the fairy tales you've probably grown up with – Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Little Pigs? See where this is going? It all brought down trouble on the _Home_ packs, in the form of hunters and mobs bearing flaming torches and brandishing pitchforks.

If Sammy and I hadn't had our snouts turned inside out that day by Mrs 'anger management' Skunk, chances were we'd have picked up on the pack sooner, diverted round and left them in peace. No one would have been disturbed.

Seen from their point of view, it looked like a couple of cocky young wolves had sauntered on through as though they owned the damn place, without any regard or showing any respect for the alpha, and frankly we were lucky to have made it as far as we had without some kind of fierce skirmish.

It was time to make amends.

I stood to my full height then bowed graciously, as Sire had once taught me. I sensed Sammy doing the same and felt a twinge of pride run through me. It's not often I get to show off my son to other non-lunars, unless they're strays, and I couldn't help wondering what this pack would make of Sam's unusual colouring.

_Sir, please accept our apologies for this untimely visit. My name is Dean and this is my son, Sammy._

_It's Sam! _Sam growled faintly in my head.

_**So** not the time, Sam!_

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Dean Winchester? Grovelling, of all things?

Damn straight I was! And so would you if you'd seen the size of this pack! There had to be a least twenty of what I could see, and there were more waiting further back in the shadows.

_Home_ packs tended to be vast in number, compared to non lunars like us.

The alpha regarded me for a long drawn out moment, then padded forward.

_What do you want from us?_ He demanded, voice deep, husky and firm in our heads, and there was a strong hint of a Scottish accent about it. Think Billy Connolly but with less swearing.

_Nothing, sir, just passage without hindrance through your land._ I met his gaze head on.

_Why did you not go around? _The alpha's eyes glowed fiercely. _Surely, even as young as you clearly are, you were aware of committing trespass on this pack?_

The beta snarled at me, upper lip curling and teeth glistening with saliva.

_Settle down, Cornelius,_ the alpha snapped without looking round.

Same age he might have been, but Cornelius wasn't nearly so experienced at his role of pack beta. Against protocol, he was trying to goad me into a brawl and, to his further anger, I just ignored him.

_Sir, we were unable to pick up your scent due to an encounter with a family of skunks…I'm afraid we upset her…_

And that was when the entire pack just seemed to freeze.

The alpha stared at me.

He shifted tentatively closer, snout sniffing furiously, and grimaced. _Oh yes, she got you alright._

He turned to face his pack. _Here that? Ol'Doris farted in his face._

And with that, he started laughing, head thrown back and howling his mirth at the starry sky. But we were even more perplexed when the rest of the pack joined in.

_Dean? What do we do now?_

_We wait and see._

_But they're just laughing at us!_

_Wouldn't you?_

I turned my head slightly and caught Sam's eye. A brief pause was all it took before the two of us snorted loudly. But it took a few minutes of laughing for us to realize that we were now the only ones who still found it amusing.

Our laughter died a gradual death, like in some corny sketch from a TV sitcom.

We were on iffy ground; for the alpha and his pack to laugh at the strangers is allowed, but for the strangers to laugh in the presence of the host alpha? Not the most politically correct move, and one that was likely to see us strung up by our ears from the nearest tree just for the insult.

But then the alpha did something strange.

He came closer and sat down right in front of me, but he was looking at Sam.

_Hmm. I thought the rumours would be greatly exaggerated, but it turns out they were bang on the mark,_ he tilted his head, staring into my eyes. _Aye,_ y_ou're a handsome one, for sure, but your son truly is a remarkable beauty. __Never seen such colouring on a non-lunar before. _

Sam ducked his head in instant embarrassment, but mumbled _thank you, sir._

The alpha seemed to find that amusing. _And shy, too. That's a rare thing these days, or so I'm told. Word has it, there's little room for modesty in the modern world._

The wolf snorted lightly.

_But I'm forgetting my manners. _

He suddenly bowed, respectfully.

_It's a pleasure to meet you both. I am Lucas, pack alpha of the Northern Home Non-lunars, last of its kind. _Without giving us much of a chance to respond to the sadness in that statement, he went on to ask _and how is that old reprobate sire of yours these days? I haven't seen Tobius since the Normandy Landings._

Because it was said with great, genuine fondness, Sammy and I, though surprised once more that day, instantly relaxed.

We were among friends.

**_Author's Notes:_**

**_Many thanks for all you encouraging reviews._**

**_Due to one review that I found particularly troubling and, if I'm honest, a little hurtful, could I point out that if the journal entry sections annoy you, or don't appeal in any way, then please note that they are quite clearly marked in bold and no one is forcing you to read them. _**

**_Please feel free to scroll down through them to the main story._**

**_Cheers._**

**_Kind regards,_**

**_ST xxx_**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising**

**Chapter 14**

_**Now…**_

**Dean grins into the camera. **

"**Surprise! Thought you might like to see something other than the inside of a motel room for once, so we brought you here…" he throws out an arm in a theatrical flourish and the digital audience is treated to an unimaginable display of natural beauty.**

**Lush green grass sweeps down to a riverbank, thickly lined with deciduous trees and wild flowers. The sun is shining brightly in a cloud flecked blue sky and birds can be heard singing somewhere in the distance.**

"**This is our **_**special place**_**," Dean says, sweeping the camera round, and it truly is special. No doubt about it. Seeing it tugs at the heartstrings, and puts one in mind of Hobbiton, before the Black Riders screwed it all up.**

**But then the camera movement stops with the frame on a quietly crying Sam. He's sitting on the ground wrapped in a blanket, back up against a tree, face buried in his blanket covered knees. His shoulders are shaking, and soft, heart breaking sobs are picked up over the camera's microphone.**

**Dean sighs. "Aw, kiddo."**

**The camera is carefully placed on the ground, and Dean's booted feet can be seen retreating across the meadow towards the crying youngster.**

**The watcher observes Dean kneeling down, pulling Sam into his arms and rocking him to and fro.**

"**S-sorry," Sam sobs out, obviously ashamed.**

"**Don't be," Dean replies, simply, eyes just a little bit moist.**

"**It's j-just that I didn't think it would be this hard, ya know?"**

"**Sammy," Dean holds him just that little bit tighter. "Maybe you just need to relax, ok? Remember when you first came here and tried it? Your own mind was holding you back, right?"**

**The audience doesn't get to hear more, because the camera is picked up by unseen hands and, without so much as a hello or good bye, turned off.**

**The camera's switched back on and Dean is once again peering into the lens.**

**It's dusk and the area is lit by a small fire, dancing flames casting shadows across Dean's face.**

"**Sorry about that," he says, smile unusually dull. "Tobius was the one who switched it off. He didn't think it was fair to Sam to have that moment caught on camera. And he's right. I wasn't thinking straight, just needed to get to Sam when he was so upset. That's why it's just us, no **_**visitors**_**. Sammy just can't face anyone else right now."**

**He shakes his head forlornly. "We'd only been here half a day when I brought the camera out. Sam had already tried a full change and couldn't manage it. It's all in his head. His subconscious is telling him he can't be a wolf like this, won't allow him to flip those switches, and it's tearing him apart."**

**Dean doesn't exactly look like he's jumping for joy either. It's clear he's spent some time in wolf form because he's naked from the waist up, his lower half covered by a blanket. In the background, the watcher can make out a sleeping Sammy with his own blanket, including a black and tan wolf-pillow. The wolf's tail is wrapped round the boy's chest and gently strokes Sam's neck every time he whimpers in his sleep, calming him.**

**Dean watches them sadly for a few moments before speaking again, sounding a little lost.**

"**It must be a terrible thing, to be a non lunar wolf and not able to change. I know that kind of loss would likely kill me, so I think it's fair to say that Sam's handling all this better than I would." Dean sniffs and blinks. "Sam **_**can**_** do a partial change, like a hand or a foot, but that's about it. Sire says that should tide Sam over without losing his mind, until we can find a way to help him," he turns back to the camera, now looking fiercely determined. "And we **_**will **_**find a way. Sam might be blind, but he's still a werewolf."**

_**Now…**_

_Dean? Can they hear our thought projections? Like, all of them?_

_Good question, but somehow I don't think so._ I replied. _I'm not sure how it works, but I suspect it has something to do with pack membership._ _I think they can only hear the ones that are directed specifically at them. Any just between you and me they can't hear, and the same for us. We can only hear theirs if they intend it._

_Huh, that makes sense. _Sam sounded fascinated as usual and that had me grinning again. Kid was relentless as always, and his questions started forth.

Lucas had welcomed us with open arms, though Cornelius still didn't seem happy. He growled angrily all the way back to their den, and, completely unprovoked, even snapped at Sam a few times when he tried talking to him. Sam being Sam, didn't take too kindly to this and rightly so, but before the two youngsters could start on each other, I placed myself firmly in the middle and politely reminded Cornelius that I was pack beta for Tobius Le Salle, and it was never a good idea to mix it with a wolf just a few months off his prime. That seemed to pacify him for a while, or so I thought, because his petulant growls could still be heard as we headed through the forest.

Last thing I needed was Sam getting in trouble with the pack beta, anyhow. I'm not saying that Sam can't take care of himself, but Cornelius wasn't pack beta for nothing, and was clearly ruthless in a way that Sammy could never be.

_Cornelius? Go see to the pups, _Lucas commanded the moment the wonderful scent of food hit our nostrils and firelight flickered through the trees, but sent him a fierce glare. I wondered about that, but the young beta scowled at Sam and me, then took off ahead.

_Don't you pay him any mind, young Sam, _said Lucas, suddenly. _He means nothing by it._

Sam shook his thick mane, indignantly. _What's his problem exactly? He doesn't even know us._

Lucas sighed; a little sadly it seemed to me. _I'm afraid he's like this to all new comers, so please, I beg you not to take it personally. _

That piqued my curiosity. _He seems a little… uh… maverick. If I may ask, what made you choose him as pack beta?_

Lucas took so long to answer I honestly thought I'd offended him with my question.

_Cornelius had a rough ride before he joined the pack and he trusts absolutely no one outside of it. He's highly protective of those he loves, with good instincts when he allows himself to listen to them, and he's one hell of a fighter._

The alpha nudged against me very gently._ Stand up to him like you have been and he'll learn to trust and respect you. Just give him time and he'll come around._

_What happened to him? _Sam asked, his soft and sympathetic nature kicking in straight away.

_I think the question is what __**hasn't**__ happened to him. _Lucas glanced over at Sam. _And I think that you of all people might understand… but that's a conversation for later perhaps, after we've eaten. I take it you boys are partial to roast venison? My mate likes to cook it with blackberries. It makes for a very tasty and satisfying dish._

So it wasn't just Tobius who had a penchant for trying out unusual recipes. As for Cornelius, I wisely kept my opinions to myself. Time would tell if the beta wolf could be trusted around Sammy.

The alpha trotted alongside us, chatting away merrily, and as we neared the den our mouths must have fallen open in utter amazement, because Lucas laughed softly.

_Wow, Dean, _Sammy stared wide eyed at the scene before us. _This is incredible._

It certainly was. I'd only ever dreamt about such a place and it reminded me of the film Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.

Several campfires blazed amongst the trees, and the sound of happy laughter echoed all around us. Non lunars in human and wolf form alike wandered from group to group, talking and eating, full of love and contentment. I was beginning to see why Cornelius resented our intrusion. Who wouldn't want to protect this from newcomers?

Some of the pack chopped wood, others appeared to be preparing various herbal mixtures, and one _real _hot chick with long dark hair that fell to below her ass sat in the lotus position, completely naked, humming a beautiful and haunting mantra. I wasn't sure why but I got the feeling she was one of the pack elders, so no _way _was I tapping that. She'd likely rip my nuts off as soon as look at me.

_That's my mate for life, Victoria, she likes to meditate before dinner, _Lucas explained, seeing where my attention was waylaid. _Claims it's better for the digestion._

I turned to him in genuine admiration. _You are one lucky sonovabitch, ya know that?_

Lucas laughed again. _Oh indeed I do._

_Hey Sam…_ I suddenly realized Sammy was dragging his paws, his eyes fixed longingly on a small group of wolf pups playing together. Their little yips and barks of pleasure, as they tumbled over and over each other, even had me stopping in my tracks, mind swept back to when Sam was a pup.

The little ones were busy gently tormenting an older wolf, who mock howled his defeat as the pups trampled him.

Sam pawed at the ground, sniffing excitedly, obviously dying to join in the fun. I sometimes forget that he's still a pup at heart.

But then the adult wolf gently shook the pups off and stood up.

It was Cornelius.

We watched as the seemingly fierce and petulant beta, gently nudged each pup with his snout and even licked their tiny noses, perhaps giving them some kind of pep talk. His obvious devotion and love of the wolf puppies had my heart in direct conflict with my head.

_He can't thought project,_ Lucas said to us, quietly.

Wow. That sure explained a lot about the beta, and it made me feel sad as hell.

Lucas continued. _Before his first change, at five years old, Cornelius was captured by a human hunter. _

It seemed that Sammy had the same shiver go down his spine as I did.

_Dean…_

_Take it easy Sam._

We turned to Lucas, knowing exactly who he was talking about.

_A man by the name of Gordon Walker. _Lucas's confirmation nearly made my stomach revolt.

And the story behind it was truly heart breaking.

Sam hadn't been Gordon's first victim, and we'd known that at the time. There was no way of telling just how many pups he'd snatched, ruined or outright murdered with his sick games.

Walker tormented Cornelius with silver, poisoned, tortured and beat him, refusing to allow him his right to change. He was used as bait to capture older, more experienced wolves for werewolf prize fights and eventually he may have planned on selling him to the highest bidder for sacrificial ceremonies. The man made a lot of money out of Cornelius throughout the course of five years, and in the end, the poor kid was so traumatized that he couldn't change or communicate in any way. Realizing he could do nothing more with the boy, Walker was about to dispose of him, and leave his body with a silver bullet in the heart out in the wilderness where no one would find him.

Lucas and his hunting pack had happened upon ten year old Cornelius bound in silver, and on his knees, execution style. The kid didn't even know what was going on, he was so withdrawn and sick. Lucas and Victoria immediately recognized the young boy as a non lunar and rescued him, driving off Gordon Walker and disappearing into the forests.

_Walker tried tracking us, but we were too fast for him. Some amongst the pack wanted him dead, but we do not kill humans. That is not our way._

It took Victoria months to get through to the kid, bringing him food and talking to him, showing him love and affection. No one knew his name; he couldn't speak either in his thoughts or with his mouth.

But, then, one day they made a breakthrough.

On his twelfth birthday, Cornelius, as he was now dubbed by his new family, crawled into Victoria's lap and mewled like a baby. Eventually it was revealed that he _could_ communicate via mouth in human form but, given that Walker was his only contact since the age of five, his speech was limited.

Between them, Victoria and Lucas taught him how to speak, helped him learn new vocabulary, and went on to help him with his first change.

Unfortunately, the silver torture had gone on for so long that thought projection was completely out of the question, but he turned into a fine, intelligent young beta who carried a very similar set of emotional scars to…

_Oh God, Dean…_ Sam faced me with unhappy tear-filled eyes and whined softly. _He was only five years old!_

_Sammy… _I padded closer and rubbed my snout along his ears. _I know, kid. But he's fine now, Gordon's gone. He can't hurt either of you now. You're both fine._

_But that kind of damage, that's just…_He dipped his head, and I just knew his soft heart was breaking for a wolf that didn't even like him.

Lucas sat back on his haunches, ears twitching. _Silver poisoning affects each wolf in different ways._

I could see the loaded questions in the alpha's eyes, but I shook my head slightly, silently pleading with him to drop it for now. Sam still hadn't fully gotten over what Walker did to him and judging by the look on his face right then, I doubted he ever would.

Lucas nodded and dipped his muzzle towards Sam, sniffing gently but not quite touching.

_C'mon youngster, _he whispered gently._ You must be hungry. Let's go try out Vicky's new dish, shall we?_

It was a very depressed Sammy that padded by my side all the way to the alpha campfire. He virtually glued himself to me all evening, copied everything I did and never said a word unless spoken to for most of the night.

When I changed, he changed, and he sat beside me in absolute silence when I wrapped a Navaho style blanket round him.

Cornelius, for his part, mostly ignored us with the exception of the odd suspicious glare, just ate his food in human form and listened to the general conversation going on around the fire. Whenever he spoke, which was rare, he actually had a deep, pleasant sounding voice. His eyes were a deep sky blue with almost jet black hair down to his shoulders, and smooth olive coloured skin. Occasionally, his hand would slip down to a small black pup curled up beside him and ran his fingers through the soft fur.

The alpha distracted us with his tales of Tobius and how they'd met in Rome one hundred and fifty years ago, and hit it off straight away. The two of them had been arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct after found splashing about in the Fountain of Trevi, much to the annoyance of the local police. That kind of surprised me. Tobius isn't exactly straight laced or anything, but the image of him happily doing the back stroke in a major land mark made me laugh out loud.

Lucas cut every bit the distinguished figure in human form as he did in wolf, with his silver hair and glowing green eyes, and of course his mate Victoria was a real lady. Smart, funny and kind, with the prettiest brown eyes and an air about her that could have suggested royalty.

And it was Victoria who got Sam and Cornelius talking in the end. To this day I don't know how she made it happen, and even wondered if there was something in the food, but one minute Cornelius was glaring at Sam, then Victoria leaned across and whispered something in his ear, and everything changed. His mouth dropped open and his eyes fixed on Sam, glowing fiercely. I shifted closer to Sam at that point but my boy hadn't noticed what was going on, just kept his head bent over his food.

_Sammy? You ok?_

_M'fine._

But he didn't sound it.

"Hey!" I whispered softly and gently tipped his chin up a little so I could see pass all that hair and into his eyes. I stifled a gasp at the turmoil and sadness going on in that gaze and just stared at him until I could find the right words. "I should've made you talk about this shit years ago. Right after it happened. What that bastard did to you… it's been haunting you all this time, huh?"

"I guess… yeah, it has, but if it's any consolation, I didn't really know until tonight," Sam whispered back.

We sensed Cornelius approaching us and Sam got to his feet, pulling the blanket round him. The two studied each other in a tense silence, until Cornelius nodded and gestured for Sam to join him.

I wasn't keen, as you can imagine. But Victoria just watched me and I heard her soft words in my head.

_If they can help each other, would you stand in the way of that?_

_Cornelius ain't the only one with trust issues round here, _I replied, worriedly.

Victoria nodded her understanding. _Then we will follow at a discrete distance as chaperones, but leave the talking to them, if that reassures you?_

What else could I do? I didn't believe for a second that Lucas would allow this group therapy meeting to take place if there was a chance Cornelius might try to harm Sam, and to be honest, the vibes I was picking up from the pack beta were no longer pointing to that.

I guessed that all I could do was keep a close eye on them, and hope for the best.

Sam and Cornelius walked slowly through the trees, talking quietly. And though I was tempted to listen in on their conversation, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Didn't seem right, somehow. This was _their _personal pain and I couldn't intrude upon it.

Victoria and Lucas accompanied me, keeping my mind occupied with more amusing stories about Tobius.

_Your Sire was particularly annoyed when we were sentenced to death by firing squad in Eastern Germany. Mind you, not half as vexed as the officer when he found out we were still alive afterwards…_

Then it was Victoria's turn.

_You know, I was pack beta until Cornelius._

_Really? _That surprised me. _What forced you to give it up?_

She just laughed. _No one forced me. I wanted to be what you boys might call a 'stay at home mom' and Cornelius was the obvious replacement. I am mother to most of the pups in this pack and a few of the juveniles._

Lucas moved into his mate and rubbed his nose against her neck, lovingly.

_She is also my queen, always has been since the day we met, almost five hundred years ago._

Victoria responded with a soft keening noise and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

The more I learned about these non lunars, the more I admired them.

But I was watching... everything... so closely...

Cornelius' body language showed he was as nervous as Sam but there was no sign of a threat. After two hours, that tension resolved into weariness and I got the impression the two young wolves would be exhausted and emotional at the end of all this, but hopefully with a sense of closure.

Finally, we spotted the signs that the conversation was coming to an end and they shook hands, hugged briefly and parted ways.

Sam, still clutching his blanket and shoulders slumped, made his way back to me, and the two of us walked back to the campfire in silence.

We didn't say a word to each other, but I sensed the strange peace inside the kid. He'd talk when he was ready, and I wasn't going to push it.

Fully changed and curled up together, he was falling fast asleep, his head draped over the back of my neck.

With the sense that someone was watching me, I glanced up and caught the blue gaze of Cornelius in wolf form. To my surprise, he sent me a friendly, perhaps even grateful wink and slunk over to his alpha, lying down beside him.

And then I had an epiphany. Tobius had known exactly what he was doing sending us out here, not just on this journey but to this pack. It was something Sam and I had both needed, and I couldn't believe what we'd accomplished in just one night.

Sam had found the inner strength and peace to face and deal with his terrible past. But what had I got out of it? I felt sure there was a lesson in there somewhere, probably to do with my fast approaching prime. Whatever it was, Tobius was arming us for the future, for whatever troubles we were about to face in the coming months. Azazel and Meg were just part of it, but Jake… he was another challenge altogether, and I sensed a showdown of epic proportions that would make our last confrontation with the guy seem like a politician's tea party.

And who knows what other special children would be waiting for us when we came back to the world.

Next morning, Sam and I were being introduced around a bit more before breakfast. There were around forty adult non lunars in all, and we almost staggered backwards in amazement at the sheer size of the pack. There were also ten pups and a further eight juveniles. Quite the handful.

It was Cornelius who offered to introduce us to the pups.

They pounced on us, burying their snouts in our fur and chattered away excitedly. You could tell they hadn't spent much time around humans, given how friendly and bold they were. We could hear their thoughts tumbling around, going from one subject to another at lightning speed, completely open with us and with no guile.

…_Sam's colour's weird…_

…_I think he's pretty…_

… _His Sire's pretty cool… all that jet black fur…_

… _and he's handsome in human form…_

One of the little girl pups pouted at that, earning a snort from Sam.

… _**Sam's **__handsome in human form, __**and**__ he's tall!_

…_Dean's tall… just not as tall as Sam…_

A male pup sat back and began furiously scratching at an ear, until Cornelius rolled his eyes and began to nibble away at him, checking for fleas.

It was hard being around a non lunar who couldn't thought project, but I noticed that he did have other ways of communicating with the pups. If he stamped his front left paw, it meant he demanded their attention. A stamp of the front right paw was an order to change. A thump of the tail indicated play time could continue.

But any stamping of the back legs meant 'danger, do as you're told and follow me.' Cornelius certainly had their respect and the pups never went against his orders.

_This is the best way to train a pack alpha, _Lucas caught me by surprise. I hadn't realized he was watching us. _The pups are the future and will require a good leader._

That sure was a telling statement.

_You planning on retiring? _I asked, casually.

Lucas snorted with laughter. _Absolutely not, at least not for some time. But the pack is getting big – it will likely become too big for just one alpha in the next few years, or even two, and Cornelius will be ready._

It felt like a leading statement.

Ahhhh. So that was his game plan. Interesting. And yet another of Sire's reasons for sending us out here, maybe. He wanted me to consider my options.

_Well, good luck with that. _I was being deliberately evasive. No _way_ I wanted any part of this. I was happy with our tiny little pack and had no intention of taking on someone else's.

Lucas grinned as though he could see right through me but let it go, thank God.

I just sat back and watched Sammy play fight with the pups. He rolled on his back and let them crawl all over him, his tongue out, ears flapping open and grinning as though he were in absolute heaven.

After lunch, Cornelius paid me a visit whilst Sam was speaking with Victoria.

The tall non lunar shifted from foot to foot a little nervously, but met my gaze head on.

"I wanted to thank you," he said, quietly. "For coming here. Talking to Sam… it's _helped_. He's the only one who even remotely understands what I went through."

My eyes narrowed a little, watching the emotions playing out on his face, and thought about how Sam seemed different since their discussion.

"It's the same for Sam. You helped him, Cornelius, and for that you'll always have our allegiance."

I waited. For some reason, I knew this would be an important turning point for all, one day.

Another shift from foot to foot from the nervous non lunar.

"You have no idea how much that means to me," he gave the requisite bow, but it was real, _right_. Felt genuine, like he meant it. "I also want to apologize for the way I treated you and Sam when you first came here…"

Gotta admire the guy for that. Apologies are hard going, as pride and ego are so tragically fragile, but even more so when you're the pack beta.

I raised my hand and forestalled him. "No need, dude. You're the pack beta and bodyguard. Over-protectiveness is kinda expected. Just try to remember protocol, huh? I had no real problem with your attitude at first, but I sure did when you snapped at Sammy and kept trying to start a fight with us. Although it's understandable, given your inability to thought project, you should know that I won't tolerate anyone laying a finger or a claw on him, especially when he hasn't done anything wrong." I stared hard at him.

"Guess I deserved that." Cornelius puffed out a breath and bit his lip, thoughtfully, before adding in a rush: "I can't stand strangers. I feel easily threatened by new comers, and Sam just made me even more edgy."

That was different. "Why? He's a non lunar just like you and me."

The beta shook his head. "There was just something different about him, but once I got to know him, I realized it didn't matter." Soft blue eyes regarded me. "He's still different but in a good way. There's something almost magical about Sam…" He shrugged. "Sorry. I don't know how else to describe it."

That almost made me laugh, it was so close to the truth.

"Well, he's one of a kind alright," I replied. "Ya know, he was my brother before I became his Sire?"

Cornelius nodded. "I had heard something along those lines, but not many of us believed it. I'm willing to believe anything about him now." He smiled at me. "I'd best take my leave. The pups will be getting into all kinds of trouble. Thank you for your time, Dean."

"No problem," I watched him go, but he turned at the last second and met my gaze once more.

"I know you two and your alpha have some difficult times ahead, but you will come through it. You need to have faith in that. And... you have us, now."

That sent a weird shiver down my spine.

Before I could ask him what he knew, he'd changed and was gone, slipping quietly away into the forest.

But my wolfie senses were tingling.

I had that strange feeling, once again, that something important had happened here.

**_Author's Notes:_**

**_Sorry for not replying to your reviews. I'm really grateful for all the support you've shown me, especially for the journal entries - you've no idea how much that means to me._**

**_We're a bit busy at the moment with the pending arrival of our new black labrador puppy (awwww!) so I thought you'd rather a chapter update than a review reply at this stage. I will reply to the reviews for this chapter, I promise._**

**_Much love and appreciation to you all. (Sammy/puppy kisses are flying out from the island as I type)_**

**_Kind regards,_**

**_ST xxx_**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 15**

_**Now…**_

**The camera is sitting propped up near the smouldering campfire, and the watcher is treated to a playful Dean creeping up behind his sire, who is crouched somewhat precariously right on the river's edge, cleaning and gutting the evening's catch of trout.**

**He moves silently, a big grin adorning his face, his hands reaching out…**

**Tobius suddenly whirls round, pulls the younger wolf into a loose headlock, then hauls him head first into the river.**

**Unfortunately, Dean's learned a thing or two over the years, because he has the presence of mind to keep a tight grip on his 'victim' and the two disappear off the riverbank.**

_**Splosh, splosh!**_

**Followed by…**

_**Gurgle…**_

_**Splutter… **_

_**...**_**and, a rather watery "Bollocks!"**

**Tobius climbs out of the river and spits out a long jet of water, the brackish liquid landing squarely in Dean's face as he follows suit.**

**It might be Dean's turn to swear…**

"**Guys? What's goin' on?" Sam's worried voice is heard from out of shot.**

"**Uh, its ok, Sammy," Dean ducks a lazy swipe from his sire and grins. "Tobius just fell in the river. Can you believe that? Guy's getting clumsy in his old age!"**

**Sam shuffles into view, leaning against a tree, wraparound shades hiding his eyes. He folds his arms in a manner that suggests he knows what's going on, and, in spite of the shades, absolutely **_**no one**_** is going to pull the wool over him.**

"**Fell in…" Sam utters, drooling sarcasm. "**_**Riiight.**_** You'll be telling me next a unicorn flew over the meadow." He shakes his head, clearly amused. "Pull the other one dude, it plays Jingle Bells."**

**Tobius smiles and nods with satisfaction. "See? You're not fooling anyone, Dean."**

"**And besides," Sam continues, casually. "I distinctly heard **_**two**_** splashes."**

**Dean quietly approaches Sam, circling round from the left, raises his hands with the intention of flicking water at the youngest wolf. But Sam must have heard him, because he steps aside, using his leaning post as a shield, lunges around it and tackles an extremely surprised Dean to the ground, still in full few of the camera.**

**Tobius roars with laughter, whilst Dean just lays there, stunned, and gazing up at his blind **_**brotherson**_** with something akin to admiration and pride in his eyes. But it immediately changes to concern when Sam hisses in pain and rolls off on to his back, face scrunched up under the shades.**

"**Dammit Sammy…" Dean hovers over him, worriedly, one hand cupping Sam's neck, and the other holding the kid's hand in a tight grip. "It was only a little water."**

**Sam's panting heavily and grasping at his chest, whilst Tobius grabs a discarded blanket, gently lifts Sam's head and stuffs the material under his neck. He stills his movements for just a second and smiles sadly.**

"**That was an excellent tackle, Sam. Your instincts are as sharp as ever," his grandfather informs him, softly. "But let's leave the antics until you're body is fully healed, hmm?"**

**Sam barely manages a nod, but his breathing is gradually slowing down. "Y-yeah… gr-great idea. Note to self..."**

**Dean's face is a mask of misery and guilt. "I'm sorry, kiddo," he says, quietly. "S'my fault. I just thought a little fun… well… I shoulda known you weren't ready."**

**Sam just smiles once his breathing is back under control. "It **_**was**_** fun, Dean. Surprised the hell out of ya, huh? One might say **_**you didn't see that coming!"**_

**Dean shakes his head in perfect synchronisation with Tobius' eye roll, but his grin is fond and proud.**

"**Touché."**

"**Come on, youngster," says Tobius, getting to his feet. "Let's get you comfortable. It's nearly time for dinner and the fish are ready. We just need that fire lit."**

**Sam nods, tiredly, but licks his lips with enthusiasm. "Great. I'm starved."**

**He's a little startled when Dean hooks an arm under his knees and the other around his back.**

"**Sammy? S'just me, ok?"**

"**I may be blind Dean, but I have two perfectly functioning legs," Sam replies, not unkindly.**

"**I know, but just humour me," Dean mumbles, still sounding guilty, and lifts Sam up against his chest.**

"**S'not your fault, dude," Sam insists. "I over did it, s'all."**

"**You responded to instinct," retorts the **_**fatherbrother.**_** "Just like we taught you, and got hurt. **_**Again.**_**"**

"**Yeah, well, you also **_**taught **_**me how to walk, remember? First time on four legs?"**

"**Pipe down, bitch."**

"**Screw it, jerk!"**

**Tobius is now near the camera, busying himself by lighting the fire, his back to the younger wolves, but there's a soft smile growing as the good natured bickering continues.**

"**I'm ok, Dean, just put me down for God's sake! I feel like Penelope Pitstop!"**

"**Nah. She's got bigger breasts than you."**

**Sam sighs, virtually giving up. "Oh God. **_**That's**_** what you were doing, watching those stupid cartoons when we were growing up? Checking out the heroine's **_**cup size?**_**"**

"**S'only reason for watchin' them, Sammy," Dean replies, a little smugly.**

**Shaking his head as they approach the fireside, Sam chuckles softly. "My Sire and father, ladies and gentlemen," he murmurs. "A big ol' perv." Earning a loud snort from Dean.**

"**Settle down you two," says Tobius, with a soft smile, and blows gently on the kindling until his efforts are rewarded with a small tendril of smoke. He grins smugly whilst his young family settles beside him, eagerly awaiting their meal. "There, fire's almost ready." He nods to Dean, and issues an order. "Now. Off with the camera. Let's have a little privacy during our dinner."**

**Dean grins, reaches over… and the world goes black.**

**The screen blinks back into focus.**

**It's a familiar night time scene. The fire is crackling away at a small pile of logs, whilst Dean pokes at it with a sturdy looking stick. Sam is curled up on his side under a warm blanket, head in Dean's lap, fast asleep.**

**In addition, there's a big black and tan paw resting against Sam's stomach, and a massive lion-sized head draped over his hip. The watcher soon realizes the boys are totally surrounded by the large wolf, and that **_**this**_** time Dean is using his sire's body as a back rest whilst he talks to the camera. No doubt later on he will be using it as a pillow, just as Sam did in the last journal entry.**

"**We've been helping Sam to further develop his sense of smell until we find the solution," Dean stares into the fire, seeming mesmerized by the flames. "It can often be as effective as sight for a non lunar, so we're hoping it will give him a boost, ya know? To his psyche. Sire's more convinced now than ever that Sam's own subconscious is holding him back from a full change. So maybe…" he shrugs.**

**A small snore makes him look down and when the digital watcher follows his gaze, it's to find Sam's nose morphing ever so slightly into a silky red snout. It's short-lived, however, because it soon morphs back into his usual human nose, but Dean seems a little excited by it.**

"**Well I'll be…" he mutters softly in amazement, then glances up at the camera, eyes shining with happiness. "That's a first. So far all he's managed is a hand or a foot. But this…" Dean shakes his head. "You wait 'til I tell 'im in the morning."**

**He gazes down at his **_**brotherson**_**, stroking the soft hairs curling round the kid's ears… and continues in a quiet voice…**

_**Then…**_

We stayed with the pack a couple more days, mainly because the rest was doing us both the world of good. But it was in part down to Victoria and Lucas' kindness, and Sam's growing friendship with Cornelius. Had a feeling the two would stay in contact, and that was just fine with me. The young beta, though unable to thought project, was fast earning my respect and I thoroughly approved of his private talks with Sam.

Sammy had changed so much in only a few days. He walked with his head up, and shoulders proud, unlike before we came here when he seemed slumped, and weighed down under a heavy burden. Now, he cracked jokes and laughed openly, a rich, deep, _hearty_ laugh that made everyone who heard him break into a smile and join in.

Victoria came up with a special herbal cure for the terrible skunk smell after our meal on that first night, and by God were we thankful for small mercies. Pretty sure the pack was more than happy about it too.

During our short time there, we sat in on the talks amongst the elders, with various issues ranging from territory, guardianship and training of the pups, to domestic hunting parties. It was kind of fascinating to see all this take place in such a large community.

We spent the afternoons with Cornelius and the pups, play fighting and wrestling. Let me tell ya, those little girl pups I mentioned? Adorable, yeah, but tough as hell? Almost certainly. I think that was our favourite time, Sam's especially.

When the time came for us to move on, Lucas insisted on a celebration.

"In honour of our friendship and allegiance," he explained, nobly then, with a crafty grin, he nudged me with an elbow, his Scottish brogue thick and pleasant in my head _and any excuse for a damn good knees-up, ya ken?_

Sammy and I watched some of the preparations in wolf form, mouths drooling, tongues out and whining softly when each and every delicious scent caught in our snouts.

Roast venison with blackberry, wild boar with apple, rabbit stew with dumplings… _dumplings?_ All the way out here? Victoria sure was a resourceful lady. Not to mention a damn fine chef.

Lucas' very own mead was in free flow the entire afternoon and well into the evening. Sammy and I took quite a shine to the sweet taste of 'honey wine' though it was strong stuff. I'm not sure how long a fermentation process Lucas preferred but after only two cups of it I was already seeing double. As for Sam… well. You guys know what a light weight he is, right? Remember his sixteenth birthday? Let's just say he had a nice long nap before the celebrations truly got under way, and leave it at that.

The camp was lit up by firelight, and non lunars gathered around one large pyre with the wild boar spit roasting over it. The smell of hot pork and fat was tantalizing as hell, and was probably the only reason why I managed to wake Sam up at all. Kid's stomach was growling loudly even under the influence of an alcoholic coma.

Still sleepy, and a still a little intoxicated, Sam stumbled alongside me, blinking heavily as we made our way towards the warmth of the fire. We had all been requested to attend in human form, blankets optional, at least for the first few hours at any rate. Had a nasty feeling I knew what that was all about, especially when I heard whispers of 'song' and 'dance' amongst the pack.

"Smells good," Sam mumbled, sniffed the air eagerly and nearly tripped over his blanket.

I laughed and slung an arm round his shoulders, holding him steady. "Yep, Victoria's been busy again."

Sam grinned happily and returned the gesture, his other arm hitching the blanket up a little. "Think I'll stay away from the mead, though," he shook his head slowly and blew out a breath before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

I couldn't help joining in. A drunk Sammy is always entertaining, especially because he's a happy drunk. Unlike John Winchester who became maudlin, sometimes even angry and violent, Sam turns into a complete sap and goes around hugging anyone who'll let him. He's even funnier when inebriated in wolf form – he sways drunkenly on all four legs and ends up walking sideways with a comical expression of confusion on his furry face.

"C'mon, I'm hungry," I tugged on his shoulders, forcing him to speed up a little.

"Ever noticed that all we seemed to have done is eat since we got here?" Sam inquired, squinting ahead.

"Won't hear me complaining," I replied, smacking my lips in anticipation. "S'not like obesity is a problem for werewolves, dude."

Sam held up a hand, index finger pointing to the sky. "True!" he hiccupped and out came the stupid drunken grin. "On that note? Let's go eat!"

The smell of food grew stronger and our stomachs growled louder in response. Lucas spotted us emerging from the trees and waved us over, allowing us to take our seats as guests of honour. Cornelius sat next to Sam, grinning from ear to ear, knowingly.

"Let me guess," he snorted with laughter when Sammy swayed a little. "The mead, huh? Has that effect on everyone first time they try it."

"Huh?" Sam blinked at him.

"Uh, Sam's not great when it comes to alcohol," I explained and smothered my laughter when Sam's head tipped to the side and plunked onto my shoulder. "Ah jeez. He's gonna be all sunshine and smiles come the morning."

Cornelius shook his head. "Nah. Nothing to worry about. It's Lucas' secret recipe. Not only will you guys not suffer a hangover, but just the opposite. You'll feel one hundred a ten percent."

"Really?" I considered that for a long moment. "Think he'll…?"

"Never," Cornelius replied, still grinning. "Victoria is the only other member of the pack who knows the recipe."

Two young non lunars, around nine and ten years old, brothers by the looks of things, approached us smiling shyly and each holding two large steaming wooden platters.

Given their age, I was surprised we hadn't seen them playing with the other pups.

Cornelius' grin softened affectionately. "Matthew and Logan here have been kind enough to bring you some food." He dipped his head in thanks to the youngsters.

"I'm Dean," I took the platter from the oldest boy, and smiled disarmingly, "And this is my _brotherson_ Sam. Thanks for the food, guys."

The boy smiled back at me, bright blue eyes glowing in the firelight. He was a handsome kid, with thick brown hair and dimples almost as deep as Sam's. "I'm Matthew," he replied in a small voice. "And this is my little brother Logan."

Matthew gently nudged his brother towards Sam, and the little guy held out his platter, nibbling nervously on his bottom lip. He was real cute, with blond hair and deep, emerald green eyes.

"I'm Logan," he whispered unnecessarily, and glanced around at his brother as if seeking approval. When Matthew nodded and gazed at him, proudly, I had a sudden feeling of deja vu. It was like turning back the clock and watching Sammy and me when we were kids.

Sam, slightly more sober by now, smiled down at Logan, reached out and cupped his chin. "Thank you Logan," he replied, softly. "You're both very kind."

Matthew laid a hand on Logan's shoulder. "It was our pleasure. We…" his eyes shifted over to me for a moment. "We've never met members of another pack before. Cornelius said you hunt strays…"

Both kids looked at us hopefully, obviously dying to hear more.

"Tell ya what," I said with a grin. "Go get your food and come sit with us for dinner…"

The two boys both yelped in delight and scampered off.

Cornelius laughed. "I think you guys have made friends for life there," then his laughter died down. "Thank you. You also made two lonely little wolves very happy."

"Lonely?" Sam queried softly, just stopping shy of taking a huge, hungry bite of the roast boar. "What do you mean?"

"Their parents were somewhat impulsive, mated too young against advice, and then when the brothers came along they began to lose interest in taking care of them." Cornelius shook his head in disgust. "Logan and Matthew were mainly looked after by the rest of the pack anyway, and were no trouble at all, but their parents couldn't handle them growing so quickly. The boys were early developers and Matthew had already undergone his first change by the time he hit two years old. Most youngsters _born_ as non lunars usually change by the age of 8, though it's not uncommon for it to happen for the first time after the age of ten. So, anyway, the parents panicked, took off and left them behind, and haven't been seen or heard from since. Perhaps it was for the best. Amelia and William didn't deserve those two as sons."

"The sad thing is," Cornelius went on to say "the boys remember their parents all too well. That kind of betrayal is difficult to get over. And though they are always treated well, cared for with love, Logan and Matthew are incredibly _insular_ if that makes sense, and never go anywhere without the other. Matthew is highly protective of Logan, and you rarely see them mixing with the other pups."

"That's understandable," I frowned and glanced at Sam. "Sound familiar?"

Sammy smiled sadly. "Yeah, it sure does."

The sound of nearby excited, childish laughter perked us up, and the two youngsters appeared with smaller platters of food for themselves, Lucas trailing behind them with a soft smile on his face and carrying his own platter.

"Don't let them badger you too much," the alpha warned, goodnaturedly. "When these two get going, they could talk the arse off a donkey given half a chance!"

Sitting cross legged under their blankets, platters in their laps, the young brothers peered over at Cornelius who waved a hand.

"Go ahead, boys. No sense in letting it go cold."

"You're not eating?" asked Sam.

"I will do, but I prefer to make sure all the pups have eaten first, then I'll take what's left," he replied, leaning back and crossing his arms under his head. "And our guests, of course, always get first serving."

Lucas nodded his approval.

That made me grin. I guess pack betas are the same no matter the size of the pack.

Between mouthfuls of food, Logan and Matthew asked countless questions, and Sam and I took it in turns to answer. We shared stories of hunts from over the years, for strays, ghosts or wendigos, and the brothers listened with rapt attention, eyes wide and swivelling rapidly between us. It was all I could do not to laugh.

By the time we'd gone up for seconds and returned, the two young boys had fallen asleep in wolf form, the older one curled around the younger. Matthew was slightly bigger with a dark tan colouring, and Logan's fur was light gold with a light speckling round the ears.

"I think you've worn them out," Lucas shrugged and gently lifted the small pups into his arms, stroking their furry ears. "Until tomorrow at least. Good job you boys are heading out after breakfast. These two won't wake up until much later, so you might just escape without another inquisition."

Sam laughed softly. "We don't mind. They're good kids."

In spite of Sam's voluntary abstinence from the mead, Lucas still managed to ply him with the stuff, claiming that a celebration just isn't a celebration without it. From then on in, things went down hill pretty quickly... but in a good way.

For starters, an Irish member of the non lunar pack broke into song, his voice clear and pitch perfect, echoing round the camp. Victoria, who'd finished serving the food, soon joined in and one by one so did many other members of the pack. Several picked up some weird looking objects made of wood, and began drumming out the lively beat.

It took me a while to realize that my foot was tapping away, and even longer to understand that I was actually enjoying something other than _mullet_ rock for once. Then the dancing… _oh boy._

It was the cliché to end all clichés: a pack of naked people dancing round the fire and singing at the tops of their voices, Lucas doing some kind of jig with his mate, and laughing loudly.

Many pairs of bare feet stomped the ground in time to the music, dancers twirled and swung round and round, and suddenly Sammy and I found ourselves being tugged gently to our feet and pulled closer to the merriment.

"Uh… Dean?" Sam slurred out, obviously drunk again and trying not to giggle. "I can't dance."

"Nuhuh…" was all I could really say to that, 'cos I was pretty far gone myself by that stage.

Sam hiccupped loudly. "Can't sing either."

But somehow, and to this day neither of us are sure why, we ended up forming part of a ring and… and…

Ok, I'm just gonna come out and say it.

We danced. In a circle. Our arms linked in the non lunar's next to us, round the fire with a kind of hop and a skip, and yes, ok, despite not knowing the words, we also joined in the singing.

If you could call it that. What came out was more a drunken howl that clashed with the other voices around us, and made several of the nearest non lunars glance at us with some concern. Gotta admit, it sounded like we were in pain.

Then came more mead, more food, which we sorely needed by that point just to soak up all the alcohol, but thankfully the boisterous dancing turned into soft ballads sung whilst seated around the fire and tucked up into our blankets.

Victoria sat in Lucas' arms, gazing contentedly into the flames whilst one of her juvenile daughters sang for us. The young wolf brothers were still snoozing away together, but this time Cornelius was holding them to his chest, arms wrapping them protectively. He grinned at me and nodded. Following his gaze, my own smile formed. Sammy was sitting with his back against a tree next to me, eyes half closed and blinking slowly. His ears were slowly sliding up his head, nose quivering a little.

As though sensing my scrutiny, Sam turned his head and smiled.

"S'great here, huh Dean? Almost don't wanna leave."

"Almost?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Weeellll," Sam waved a hand vaguely. "Ya know… big family an' all that… pups running round the place…"

"Yeah?" I sensed a _but_ coming on.

He slid down, his head rolling back until wide blue green eyes blinked up at me.

"But I miss Tobius, and the 'Pala. Miss it bein' jus…_us._ Know what I mean?"

I just stared at him, one corner of my mouth twitching with amusement. Even after this, well, piece of _heaven_, he still loved being a part of our tiny family, and that knowledge sure warmed my heart.

"Yeah, Sammy," pulling him against me, and rubbing his back through the blanket, I pressed a small kiss to the top of his head. "I know exactly what you mean."

Next morning brought sunshine filtering through the forest canopy, and a faint ground mist weaving it's way around the tree trunks. Most of the pack had fallen asleep where they lay, scattered here and there around the main fire. Lucas was busy getting the fire going again, and Victoria pottered about preparing breakfast.

I changed into human form, and glanced around.

Sammy was curled up beside me, his warm fur soft against my skin. I gently ran a hand over his head and smiled when he stirred.

_Hmmmm. Dean?_

_Yeah, Sammy. You feeling ok?_

_Yeah. Guess Cornelius was telling the truth about that mead. What about you?_

_Feel great! Hungry even._

Sam sat up and shuffled closer, licking his chops and sniffing furiously. _Me too. That food was great last night._

_Well, c'mon then. _With Sam loping along beside me, we approached the pack alpha and his mate just as she was serving up some generous portions of last night's left overs.

"So, I take it you two are still leaving today?" Lucas asked us, just a little sadly. "You're more than welcome to stay longer…"

I glanced down at Sam.

The brother pups had woken up early and gambolled over for a game of chase, and Sammy was only too willing to oblige. Quickly giving in, he rolled onto his back whilst they tugged on his ears and tail with excited yips and tiny growls.

_Whatdya say, Sam? Wanna hang around another couple days?_

Sam raised his head. _Uh…I'd love to, but…_

Yeah, I understood his dilemma. We had a lot to deal with and putting it off wouldn't make it any easier. In fact, by staying we'd only be placing the pack in danger, because I was damn sure Meg and the special kids would somehow find us out here eventually.

_No problem, kiddo. We can always come back and visit, right Lucas?_

Lucas beamed at me. _We'd love to see you both again, and next time bring that trouble maker Tobius with you!_

I grinned. _Damn straight we will._

Breakfast was quiet but light hearted, and once we'd fed it was time to say our good byes. All present were fully wolfed out, with the exception of the very young, and stood waiting to wish us a safe journey.

Strangely enough, it was harder than we thought it would be. The pups whined and pawed at the ground, and one of the little girls rubbed her snout into my belly fur, crying quietly.

_Gonna miss 'em._

_Where they goin'?_

_They'll be back soon, right?_

Victoria padded forward, a beautiful wolf with thick, golden fur, and pressed her snout to Sam's ear, huffing softly.

_We'll be here. Any time you need us._

Sam ducked his head and sniffed back. _Thank you for having us. We had a great time._

Then Victoria moved onto me, repeating the same gesture with Lucas and Cornelius following on. When I looked back at Cornelius, he was sat in front of Sam with Matthew and Logan. He tapped a paw to Sam's front left leg and waited whilst Sam did the same in return. That was Cornelius' own personal way of saying good luck and God speed, before the ear sniffing recommenced.

The rest of the pack was gathered round, smiling and watching us, the younger members snuggled up to their parents.

Lucas had the final word.

_When you reach the mountain passes, whatever you do, don't stop to rest, at least not for long. Stay in wolf form and keep going if you can. Blizzards become more frequent the higher you go and it would be ill advised to get caught up in one. Even non lunars have been known to come to harm up there._

I stifled a sigh, knowing with absolute certainty that if anyone was gonna get hurt, it would be Sam. Kid's like a Godamned magnet for trouble.

_Let me guess. There's silver up in the mountains, huh?_ I remarked, dryly.

The pack alpha huffed in amusement. _There is the occasional abandoned silver mine to watch out for, but it's the cold and the wind you have to be aware of. Sometimes the wind is strong enough to knock you off the pass, and though it won't kill you it will hurt like a bastard. Cold and snow clumps up your fur right by the ears, eyes and snout, making hard to breathe and difficult to see. Soon as that happens, make sure you huddle together and if necessary breathe warm air up each other's nostrils. But as I said, don't stop for too long if you can help it._

I was beginning to wonder if it was worth turning back and hitting the road, but then again, with the special kids probably going nuts searching for us, perhaps not.

_Dean, we'll be fine. _Sam gently batted his muzzle against mine._ Quit worrying so much._

_Yeah, right. _I snorted in reply. _Been worrying about you since the day you were born, kiddo. That's never gonna change._

We trotted through the trees, the pack following until we broke cover. But when we looked back one last time, they were gone from our lives, as silently and as swiftly as they had appeared several nights ago.

_Ready to make tracks, Sam?_

Sam shook from head to tail and bounded eagerly out into the open.

_Yup! Let's go!_

_Race ya?_

_You're on!_

_**Author's Notes:**_

**_You can see my black lab puppy on my profile page, if you fancy a look. He's the most chilled out labrador I've ever met and, as a result, I'm half convinced he's smoking something illegal behind our backs!_**

**_Cheers for all your wonderful reviews everyone._**

**_Kind regards,_**

**_ST xxx_**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hunter of the Shadows book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 16**

_**Now...**_

**Dean's stirring a steaming mug whilst Sam continues snoring away peacefully in his lap.**

"**Would you mind passing me the sugar?" Tobius speaks softly from out of shot, and Dean obligingly does as asked. A hand snakes out and grasps the offered small grey metal pot. "So. You two headed into the mountains. But you never really told me what you thought of the **_**Home pack.**_**"**

**There's a question in there somewhere and Dean raises an eyebrow. One gets the impression he's been avoiding this subject for quite some time.**

"**Yeah, and you never told me why you sent us there. I mean, Sammy I can understand," says Dean, though he doesn't sound angry as such, more guarded. "But me... well, Lucas sure gave me a clue."**

"**Indeed," Tobius sounds amused.**

**Dean tilts his head to the side. "He's thinking of expanding the pack further, but he'll need another alpha besides Cornelius," his eyes narrow. "I think it was his roundabout way of asking me to become a pack alpha."**

"**And?" Tobius response is frustratingly elusive.**

**Dean sets his jaw, and answers in a low, angry voice. "I said no."**

**The silence is thick and suffocating as beta and alpha seem to be opposed, and the watcher would pay a small fortune just to see Tobius' on screen right now.**

**The answer, however, is soon forth coming.**

"**Fair enough."**

"**What?"**

"**You heard me."**

"**What the hell does that mean?"**

"**It's not supposed to mean anything." **

**It's a quick fire round, and once it comes to an end, Tobius leans forward, elbows on knees, which finally brings him into shot, mug clutched in his hands. He appears perfectly calm and collected, smiling even.**

**Dean just stares at his sire, in part suspicion but mainly in bewilderment.**

**Tobius sighs, breaking the second brief silence.**

"**You misunderstand my intentions, young pup," he's still smiling, albeit sadly. "It was not supposed to be a nudge in the right direction. There **_**is **_**no right direction except that which you choose. The journey was indeed a chance for Sam to heal, and I knew young Cornelius would be of great assistance once you got to know him. But the whole point, the **_**real**_** point, was to broaden your horizons, to look forward and think of the future. No one is suggesting you should have accepted Lucas' offer, and believe me when I say that I have never felt so relieved that you didn't, but be honest with yourself if you can't be honest with me." His gaze is intense, eyes glowing deeply. "What did it truly feel like to run amongst a large pack, to see Sam enjoy himself around the pups and watch him grow? You and I both know what he had planned with Jessica, and what he lost when she was killed. I am merely **_**suggesting**_** that you both keep your options open. I will always be here for you, and when you are ready to take your place as alpha, Sam as beta, I will still be a member of this pack. But I'm tired Dean, so tired. I'll be happy to let you boys take over the running and hunting, whilst I stay at home, maintaining our resources and training your pups..."**

**Dean has been silent up 'til now, mouth open in shock, but now he interrupts with a shaky voice.**

"**P-pups? What pups? What the hell?"**

**Tobius smiles. "Sam's, and perhaps, more of yours someday," he shrugs. "Maybe **_**you **_**aren't the settling down type just yet, but Sam **_**is **_**and always will be. It's just one possible future. Who knows what will happen?"**

"**Sammy as beta?" Dean's still a little shocked, but he lowers his voice and glances down at his **_**brotherson**_** snuggled up against him. "But..."**

"**Sight isn't everything, Dean, at least not for a werewolf," his Sire murmurs, softly. "Sam's hearing and sense of smell are beyond reproach. He's already beginning to prove that. There is no reason why he still can't be pack beta some day. It might be difficult but not impossible." He nods. "Young Cornelius is a fine example."**

"**I guess..." Dean trails off with a small, proud smile and a returning nod. Then he freezes. "How did you know about Cornelius? Lucas told me you guys hadn't seen each other in years!"**

"**Hmm," Tobius sighs, a wistful smile on his face. "In nearly **_**seventy**_** years, in fact. But I still keep my ear to the ground, youngster." He winks, mysteriously.**

**Dean smiles softly on hearing that.**

"**Now," Tobius sits back, once again out of shot. "Tell us about your journey through the mountains..."**

_**Then…**_

_Sammy? You ok?_

_Yeah… wind's a little strong, though._

_Just keep pushing against it. We'll soon be outta here._

We trudged onwards as quickly as the gale force winds allowed.

It had taken us several days of high speed running to get half way up the foothills, and after that we quickly learned that Lucas was right. The weather was taking a turn for the worst. Clouds billowed out above us, layer upon layer, grey and heavy with snow, and as we climbed higher the freezing wind picked up and pretty soon visibility was reduced to a mere few feet or so. By this time, we were effectively walking within the cloud itself.

Gotta tell ya, we've never felt so grateful for our thick fur. Without it the trek would've been impossible, though I kept a constant eye on Sammy, watching for signs of exhaustion. Yeah, he's got a thick coat, being a big wolf and all, but he's still pretty skinny under all that fur. With the fast approach of my prime, I was piling on pounds of muscle and much needed fat as my main source of fuel, so the cold wouldn't likely be an issue for me, but I _was_ sure worried about Sam.

The temperature was plummeting the higher we went and the gale raged around us with a fury that was startling. One particularly violent gust swept Sam into a sideways tumble against the rock face, bashing his head so hard for a terrifying minute there I thought he'd been knocked unconscious.

_Sammy, wake up! We can't afford to lounge around out here!_

The kid looked up me with dazed eyes and staggered to his paws.

_Y-yeah… just gimme a sec…_

_Sorry, kid. We need to keep moving._

Without another word, he pushed himself into an awkward, limping trot. I narrowed my eyes against the blizzard and hurried on after him.

After a while even I was feeling the chill seep through my fur, but as we pressed onwards I hovered close to Sam, occasionally rubbing against him, trying to encourage the poor kid. He was obviously suffering from the cold, and to top it off he must have hurt himself during his earlier encounter with the mountain, because he was still walking with a limp and it was becoming more and more pronounced.

To make matters worse, each time we thought we were getting somewhere, getting closer to the actual mountain pass that would we see us safely through the other side of the range, we'd be demoralized by yet another false horizon. Terrain like this can be deceptive, make you think you're near the journey's end only to find there's another rough five miles of torturous climbing to do. I guess it's a little like being caught in the dessert, with mirages and hallucinations. It was soul wearying, and hard going on the body, especially when the air was growing thinner all the time.

My breathing was becoming affected, and I damn near panicked when at last I couldn't pull enough oxygen into my lungs to satisfy my needs. It wouldn't kill me, but it sure was uncomfortable and it wasn't long before Sam notice.

_Dean stop!_

_No… gotta keep m-moving…_

_No! Your fur is freezing up and you can't breathe properly._

_I'll be ok…_

_No you won't!_

He halted in front of me and refused to budge, just turned around and crowded me against the mountain wall.

_It's just the air, Sam!_

_It's your fur, it's longer than mine. Just let me help._

Not like he gave me a choice. Sam curled his body into mine, shielding me from the worst of the storm, then opened his huge jaws and carefully closed them round my snout, huffing softly. Quick warm breaths filled my nose and airway, melting the snow instantly, and my God did it feel good! I could finally breathe! The panic eased up and I closed my eyes for a second, revelling in the mild sting as my sensitive nostril hairs unfroze.

_Feel better? _Sam's gentle voice filled my head and I nodded slowly.

When I opened my eyes again, I instantly saw what he meant by the length of our fur. We're both long-haired wolves, but although Sam carries much of his fur by his ears and under-belly, the whiskers by his snout are shorter than mine. He was in little danger of freezing up, but I _did_ notice that his tall ears were a little _snowbound_.

_C'mon 'ere Sammy. _I gently nipped at one of the damp, silky tips.

He obediently dipped his head and let me return the favour, nudging his ears with my muzzle until all the snow had gone.

_Thanks Dean. _His eyes shone gratefully through the gloom of the storm. _They were getting a little cold._

I just pushed against him. _And my lungs were getting a little empty, so right back at ya, kid._

The brief respite from our punishing pace had filled us with renewed strength for a while, so we upped the speed, ever hopeful of soon seeing an end to this nightmare.

Sam's movements faltered from time to time, but he kept going until we _finally_ hit the highest point of the trail, the narrow path that ran between two mountain peaks. Edging our way carefully passed a steep drop, we collapsed behind of wall of rock that sheltered us from the high winds and freezing snow.

_How's the head?_

Sam fell to his belly and groaned. _Hurts, but I'll be ok._

I checked him over, nibbling and nudging him here and there until he hissed in pain.

_So when were you gonna tell me about your leg?_

_S'nothin'. Just bruised._

_Hmm. Let's get further along the trail a ways, and then you can rest properly, ok?_

Tired eyes blinked at me. _Sounds like a damn fine idea. Never known a place like this! It's incredible!_

I huffed a laugh. _Yeah, you can keep it. Next time we decide to re-enact The Incredible Journey, I vote for sandy beaches, warm sunshine and plenty of hot babes._

Sam's wolf-grin made me laugh even harder.

_Let me guess, we'd be in __**traditional**__ greeting form… _he let that trail off, already knowing the response.

I grinned back, not wanting to disappoint. _Yep. Naked. Let the ladies see __**all **__the good stuff!_

_Forget about any incredible journeys, in that case Dean,_ Sam replied with a light slap of his tail in my face. _We wouldn't be coming home at all!_

I let out a low howl of appreciation. _Damn straight!_

It was a definite relief to be out of that freezing cold wind, with only lightly swirling flakes of snow coming to settle on our backs. We trudged along, Sam limping steadily, the both of us snarking back and forth the whole time about beaches, hot sun and those sticky cocktail drinks with silly little umbrellas and a Carmen Miranda-style fruit garnish.

_Nah, Sammy. Beer. Ice cold beer served in frosted glasses._

_Huh. I guess that's a step up for you._

_What dya mean?_

_Using a glass for once._

_Hey! Just remember who taught you which fork to use at the dinner table!_

_Yeah, but that was easy. 'Start from the outside and work your way in'._

The good natured bickering continued until we found a low roofed outcrop carved into the side of the rocky trail. It served as an effective natural, but temporary shelter.

_Just a few minutes, then we get going again. Got to face the same snowy crap on the other side so the sooner we tackle it the better._

Sam slumped down on his belly the very moment we shuffled underneath the outcrop.

_Ok, let me see your leg._

_Nah, Dean. Its fine,_ he replied, sleepily. That wasn't surprising; the thin air was making us both feel a little light headed. Altitude sickness ain't much fun, but it has to be worse for you humans, huh? You have my sympathies.

_Quit arguing and show me your leg, bitch._

Sam huffed and obediently extended his rear left leg. Snuffling through the fur with my nose I quickly encountered a small bump, and my eyes could just make out a developing dark bruise under the skin. To my relief, nothing seemed broken or out of place, not that I expected it to. Had that been the case, I would have been forced to change into human form and carry Sam the rest of the way, whilst naked. And let's just say that even werewolves worry about certain _things_ shrivelling up. Only difference is, with us? Nothing turns blue and drops off, so I guess it really does suck to be human.

Sam grimaced a little when I swept my nose one final time through his fur, but he'd been right. Just a bruise. Nothing to worry about.

The cold had to have made the pain a little worse than usual though, so I ducked down next to him and breathed on the injured limb, gradually warming it up.

_Thanks, dude. That feels good,_ Sammy sighed in contentment.

_No problem, kid. The heat should help loosen you up a little, stop the leg muscles from cramping._

A close inspection of his head revealed pretty much the same, so it was with grateful sighs from the both of us that a few minutes later we clambered to our feet, and moved on.

I won't bore you with the details of our emergence on the other side of the mountains, or even the descent into the smaller foothills that awaited us. Suffice to say we suffered more of the same battering winds and snow storms, and several times we stopped to clear the snow from each other's face. Sam was fully healed and firing on all four cylinders by this point, and coupled with the downhill motion, our pace picked up again. Soon we were barrelling our way through to the calmer, more peaceful country of our family home.

We were under orders not to head for the cabin. Tobius was worried a nasty surprise might be waiting for us there in the form of either Jake of one of the others. That was just fine by us.

Meandering our way along the foothills, Sam decided to summon a vision just to make sure the way ahead was clear. To my relief, Sam suffered no pain, no blood and no loss of consciousness, which fooled me into thinking that everything was peachy.

It wasn't.

Not by a long shot.

Our conversation ran like this:

_Tobius is in trouble._

_What?_

_Actually, scratch that. Tobius is fine, but the blond girl he just shot… uh… __**isn't.**_

_Andy with him?_

_Yeah. He's lying on the ground near the Impala… and I hate to say it, Dean, but the car…_

_What about my car?_

_Uh… there's a dent in the front bumper. Andy's unconscious…_

_Someone hit my fucking __**car?**_

_It's just a small…_

_My __**car's**__ been violated?_

_Not that big at all in fact…_

_My __**baby's**__ hurt?_

…_Andy's fine by the way, just coming round…_

_**Sonofabitch! Who the hell was it? You tell me who it was right now, Sam, and I'm gonna rip out their Godamned throat...**_

Sam sighed and let me rant it out. He was smart like that, waiting for the right moment when I would actually calm down enough to _listen_ to him.

When I was through, I stood there shaking from snout to tail, spine rigid, head lowered, growling menacingly with hackles well and truly raised.

If Sam had been in human form right then, no doubt he would have been leaning against a tree, ankles crossed and casually examining his nails.

_You finished, dude?_

_Oh yeaaahh… I'm finished alright, and so's the punk who harmed my fucking car…_

_Dean!_

Huffing, and ungraciously standing down from DEFCON 2, I shook my mane and sat back on my haunches. My usual state is DEFCON 3, sometimes hovering on a level 4, depending on how many beers or how much sex I've had lately. Someone screwing with the car definitely kicks things up to level 2, but harming Sammy or Tobius launches me straight up there to the lofty heights of level 1. And that's an extinction level event.

So be warned.

_The person who harmed your car is already taken care of. As I said before, Tobius shot her._

Well, gotta say, that was a new and exciting approach to traffic violations but, judging by the tone of Sam's voice right then, it wasn't the right time to mention that.

Though, he didn't sound _too_ upset, not like he had in the past.

_The blond girl was one of the special kids. She ran them off the road and tried to kill them both by stopping their hearts. Tobius just caught her in time before she gave Andy the full dose. And Dean?_

_Yeah? _Kid sounded a little worried, in fact. _What is it, Sammy? _

_I think it was quite a skirmish. I sensed Tobius was worried she might actually succeed in taking him out of action for a significant time, mainly because she could effect his heart._

I thought about that, with renewed rising anger. It explained why Sam wasn't so guilt ridden or disturbed by the vision. The dead chick had tried to kill his grandfather and friend. Although it would never make her death _ok_ as such in his book, the fact remained it was in self-defence. And that made the difference.

_In that case, I'm __**doubly **__glad the bitch is dead._

_Her __**name**__ was Lily, _Sam responded mutinously, always respectful of the dead, regardless of the circumstances.

_Don't care if her name was __**Tiger **__Lilly, Fifi Trixibelle or Peaches,_ I countered, growling angrily. S_he's gone and that's one less of the bastards to deal with._

_I guess… no. You're right. _Sam stretched, yawned, and on hearing his belly grumble in protest, changed the subject. _Damn, I'm hungry._

It seemed that Sire had been right. By splitting us up from him and Andy, stuffing us out in the wilderness and in the safe arms of Lucas' _Home _pack, meant setting themselves up as a diversion and bait… smart bastard was gonna be feeling smug as hell in true La Salle fashion.

Another low rumble suggested there were currently more important things to be considered.

No doubt Sam would discuss his vision in more detail with Tobius when we arrived at the werebears' cabin in a couple of day's time but, for now, my son needed food.

_C'mon. I smell rabbit in the area, _I muttered in his ear and playfully licked his nose.

Several hours later, we were gnawing, crunching and chewing contentedly by a small fire. We'd found a dip in the ground, almost like a small natural quarry, enough to keep us sheltered from the cold winds that still buffeted the area. It was cosy and warm, sitting side by side with the fire light jumping and dancing.

In all it had taken us five days to pass up through the mountains, with no decent breaks or food, mainly because there was little to eat up there, and even less shelter worth a damn. We were weak with exhaustion and shaky with hunger, but, having said that, there was also the satisfaction of a job well done.

We felt the most relaxed since leaving Lucas and tackling Everest's evil younger sister, able to take stock, eat well and get some decent rest, and God knew how much we needed it. Altitude sickness and extreme cold, not to mention Sam's mild injuries could easily be countered with some good solid food and sleep. After all, werewolves heal amazingly fast provided our needs are tended to.

_Dean?_

_Hmmmm? _I didn't open my eyes, lazy wolf that I am. My head was resting on my paws so I just cocked an ear to signify that I was listening.

_I had a great time out here._

_Me too, kid. Me too._

_S'gotta be one of the best trips we've ever taken._

_Yeah. It's been fun, huh?_

Sam sniffed quietly. _I just wanted you to know that, ya know… 'cos of what's coming. I mean… just in case we…_

My head snapped up on hearing _that._ It sounded suspiciously like a 'goodbye' speech.

_Don't even think about finishing that sentence, _I growled a warning then reached over and nipped sharply at the scruff of Sam's neck. _None of that 'in case we don't make it' crap! We've been through a whole world of hurt and pain, Sam, you especially, and we've survived it. So we'll survive what's __**ahead**__ of us, no matter what. You hearing me, kid? __**No matter what!**_

_Ok Dean,_ he replied, with a sigh of resignation.

_That had better not be you 'placating' me, Sam! _

_No Dean._

_You know I hate it when you do that._

_Ok Dean._

_Sam!_

At last, he chuckled and shifted against me. _**We survive no matter what.**_

_That's better. _

_You're a bossy ol'jerk._

_And you're a whiny little bitch. Now get some sleep._

It was well into late morning before we woke up and finished off the remains of the rabbit. They hadn't been especially hard to catch the night before, which was just as well given how tired we were, so we'd caught enough to cover the evening meal and breakfast. Pretty soon we were ready to hit the last leg of the journey, and did so gladly.

A few more days of sleeping under the sky and feeding off the land brought us closer to home, and the yearning to see our alpha became stronger than ever. We were beginning to sense his presence and, in our eagerness, sped up until we were running at full pelt along the ridges, cracks and fissures in the rocks.

Some years back, Sammy and I had a fight about whether or not he should go to college. It got so intense that I scared him into running off on his own, and he became trapped out here on an unstable part of the mountains. It resulted in a huge rock slide and we nearly lost him along with half the mountainside. It was only as Tobius grabbed Sammy and pulled him free in time that it became apparent he hadn't been the only one in danger. The rock beneath my paws had crumbled away with a loud groan, taking me with it.

I'd never been so scared when Sire, Sam and the werebears were digging me out, and though I recovered quickly with no permanent damage, the emotional scars of being buried under a ton of rock had stayed with me for a long time. I've never told Sammy that, though, and I never will. Kid blamed himself enough for that night without adding to his burdens.

But as we raced on by the scene of the accident from so many years before, I barely spared it a glance. Too much on my mind, too much anticipation.

I could smell my Sire, almost hear his beating heart…

_I'm glad you're home safely, young pups._

We skidded to a halt, our paws scrabbling at the rocky ground, sniffing the air furiously.

The smell of cigar smoke surrounded us like a comfort blanket and then, suddenly, there he was, approaching from the tree line ahead, tall and proud, a large welcoming smile on his face.

We just stood there, eyes wide, watching him for a fraction of a second. Then we took off, leaping high and colliding with his chest, whining and snuffling excitedly.

Sire didn't even stumble, just stood stock still and wrapped his arms around us both, as though we weighed even less than the air we'd breathed up on the mountain pass just days ago.

There was no need for words.

He held us for a long, long time, just letting us take in his scent, before dropping into a crouch and setting us down gently. Still quiet but also still smiling, Tobius stubbed out his cigar, removed his clothes and changed swiftly. Then the _real_ welcome began.

He pounced on Sam, rolled him over onto his back and blew actual _raspberries _on his belly. The kid amazed me by giggling like a five year old, head shaking from side to side helplessly and tail wagging nineteen to the dozen.

_You're such a sap, Sammy!_

Sam couldn't respond he was laughing so much, but Sire sure had something to say. He raised his massive head and I began to back away when I saw the gleam in his eye.

_I wouldn't be so cocky, youngster. You're next._

I didn't get time to so much as_ think_ let alone run, before the bastard was on me, pulling me down onto my back and… and… _aaagghhhhhhh!_

It was some time before I could get my breath back from laughing.

Never realized just how ticklish I was, well, apart from when Miss Cassie Sexy Non Lunar Reporter… er… I don't think you want me to go into that. To put your mind at rest, Sire was only blowing raspberries on my stomach. _Nowhere _else.

Um.

Starting to wish I hadn't brought that up, but hey, ya know what? That's the nature of journal entries. The only people who bother with them are usually fairly unbalanced. Why, otherwise, would we wanna be reminded of our past so damn much?

Sire sat up and scratched at an ear, still grinning widely.

_I take it you boys had a good time?_

_Good time? _Sam exclaimed, happily. _It was the best! Tobius, we got to meet and spend time with a Home pack of non lunars. It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life._

_And then, _I added, interrupting Sam's excited chatter, much to his annoyance. _We got to scale a mountain that took us damn close to the next galaxy. Apart from that, it was pretty mundane, ya know?_

Tobius snorted with laughter. _I __**see.**_

I grinned back at him and stuffed my snout in his ear. _Just messin' with ya. Sammy's right. We had a great time. Well, until we got skunked, that is. Never smelled anything like it,_ I pulled back and scowled at Sire a little. _Apart from you after a hot curry of course._

Tobius made a half-hearted swipe at me with a large paw._ Cheeky young pup. _

He jerked his chin towards the trees. _Now c'mon. Let's go. I have quite the surprise for you both._

Josey and Gerald's cabin was in the opposite direction to our place, and Sammy and I both glanced mournfully at the trail that turned away from us, back to our own cosy cabin.

_Not to worry, youngsters. We'll get to go home soon enough._

Assuming we survived Jake Talley.

I didn't need to hear Sam say it, I could feel it in the way he dipped his head as we trotted through the forest towards the werebears, and it was written all over his face.

Somehow, I just couldn't bring myself to say anything. We'd said it all already.

A quick change of subject was needed instead at that stage.

_So, the pack alpha was pretty cool,_ I murmured casually, but carefully watched Tobius in my peripherals.

_Hmm?_ Sire glanced at me for a second. _Yes, Lucas and Victoria are wonderful pack leaders. I take it you met their beta? Young Cornelius?_

_Yeah, _Sam answered, a little subdued. _He had a rough time growing up, huh?_

Tobius turned kind eyes on Sammy. _He did indeed. But I imagine things are much different for him now._ Those eyes suddenly flared brightly with pride, and Sam ducked his head shyly.

So my theory was right. Tobius had deliberately sent us out there, knowing full well who we'd run into. But the question was, why didn't he just tell us before hand?

_I thought it best you didn't know,_ said Sire, once again arousing my suspicions of his ability to mind read. _I wanted you both to be yourselves and relax around them. First impressions are important amongst non lunars, but the second and third are far more informative. You both followed your instincts accordingly without any preparation from me. And besides, _he stopped suddenly and appraised us both, fondly. _I can tell the meeting went well. Your eyes are glowing, minds sharp and bright… that's the magic of being in the presence of a Home pack for the first time. An experience I couldn't possibly deny you. Call it my surprise gift to you both._

We trotted on in silence and if I had to blink a few times to clear my blurry vision, Sam and Tobius didn't mention it.

And to think I called _Sammy_ a sap.

_**Author's notes:**_

**_So the boys are reunited with their own alpha and it's time to get down to business._**

**_Did Andy agree to join the werebears?_**

**_How will they all deal with the trouble ahead?_**

**_Stay tuned to find out!_**

**_Many thanks for all your wonderful reviews. Apologies, again, for not replying to the last chapter, though I promise I will for this one. It's only fair and polite when you guys have gone to so much effort to show your support. Yet again, I found myself overloaded with chores and settling into the new place, not to mention puppy training - speaking of which, the adorable little scamp is doing very well! Nelson was pretty much toilet trained within a couple of days of coming home with us, and he's already stopped crying and howling his way through the night. He follows me everywhere, including the bathroom. He lays on the floor and goes to sleep whilst I'm in the shower and I don't have the heart to kick him out. For some reason, I feel safe and calm when he's nearby, which is strange given that he's still so small right now. His paws and ears are huge, compared to the rest of his tiny body, so we think he's gonna be a BIG dog when he hits adolescence. He's currently trying to assert his alpha male dominance over my husband, who has politely but firmly informed Nelson that there's no way he's gonna be ordered around by a dog! Hmm. Good luck with that, darling. Nelson will just bring out the puppy dog eyes and you'll turn to mush!_**

**_I love the pup so much it's incredible. When I get home from work in the evenings, he scampers over to me and virtually leaps into my arms, wriggling and snuffling into my ear, just like Sam and Dean sometimes do in this fic. Obviously, I'm not gonna be able to hold him like that when he's bigger, so I'm making the most of it. Unfortunately, I'm no where near as strong as Tobius, who's werewolf strength allows him to hold both his wolf-boys in his arms at once. _**

**_Would be nice, though, eh?_**

**_Cheers again everyone._**

**_Kind regards,_**

**_ST xxx_**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 17**

_**Now...**_

**Tobius smiles softly. "Yes, that was quite a reunion. I shouldn't have been surprised by how much I missed you pups," he shakes his head slightly, eyes never straying from the firelight. "But... looking back, I wonder how I managed all those years alone before you boys came along."**

"**Yeah," Dean murmurs with feeling and presses a small kiss to the top of Sam's head. "Know what you mean. Life sure is a rollercoaster, huh?"**

"**That it is," Tobius nods slowly in agreement. "That it is, indeed."**

**Sam stirs and snuggles closer to his **_**fatherbrother**_**, but doesn't wake up. The senior werewolves glance at him, smiling fondly. If Sam were fully human no doubt he'd be petulantly rolling his eyes and bristling at Dean's possessiveness, but the young werewolf he is now clearly understands the close, protective nature of his pack and fully reciprocates. Evidence enough, is his human arm ending in a red furry paw which curls heavily over Dean's right shoulder. Any slight movement on Dean's part results in Sam burrowing deeper into his father's arms, as though afraid, even in sleep, that someone will take away his family.**

**Acknowledging this, Dean nods at the camera. "He's a little clingy, but then I guess that's natural. He woke up a while ago from a night mare. To cut a long story short, Sam's scared he won't know there's a threat 'til it's too late and now he won't let us out of his 'sight' if you get my meaning." He stares down at his boy, worriedly. "He's afraid he's gonna lose us, just as we're scared of losing him."**

"**Understandable given recent events," Tobius remarks and lights up a cigar, puffing quietly. "We've all been through a lot. But that's what we're here for – to heal both inside **_**and**_** out. Once Sam's health is back up to par, we can consider our options."**

**He doesn't mention that the small pack's counsellor is actually their very own digital audience, but the thought hangs in the air around him. Sometimes, just a damn good airing can clear the mind, without awkward or unwanted questions. And what a better way than a journal entry? An audience that won't talk or argue back?**

**The two fall silent, whilst Dean tosses another log on the fire, watching the flames lick higher as the wood catches light.**

"**I guess you guys wanna know more, huh?" says Dean, raising an eyebrow at the camera.**

_**Then...**_

Trotting side by side, with Sam between us, we made our way through the forests towards Gerald's cabin. Chatting about nothing of consequence, Sire occasionally nudged against Sam, sending the kid sprawling against me which would often start off another bout of raucous play fighting.

A few hours later the cabin came into view and we changed into human form. Gerald was outside, chopping up logs. He looked up from his task with a big broad grin and set down the axe.

"Hey Guys! You're here at last!"

He wiped a sweaty hand on his scruffy jeans and sped over to us. Not waiting for permission, the little guy pulled each of us into a hug, babbling nineteen to the dozen about how Josey was in the kitchen cooking up all kinds of treats, and how Janaya-Maria was so excited at seeing us all again. Though from the twinkle in his eye when he looked at Sam, it was obvious who the little girl was _really_ looking forward to seeing. Before heading off to college Sam used to baby sit from time to time, and had formed quite a bond with her.

Right on cue, a scuffling noise from one side of the cabin caught our attention and before anyone could react a tiny ball of thick black fur barrelled towards us, leapt up into Sam's arms, and buried its little nose in the kid's neck.

"Hey baby bear," Sam crooned softly, accompanied by the bear cubs' own soft happy mewling noises. He stroked her furry ears, chuckling when she swayed a little, her head pushing into his hand. "So you've started changing already huh?" He pulled back and smiled affectionately down at her. "Looks good on you."

The little bear chattered away in what I could only call baby language, or is that baby-bear talk? Not sure. Gotta admit, though. She sure was a cute little thing.

"Yep." Gerald announced, proudly. "Werebears can change pretty much before they can talk. She had her first change a while back, and since then she's hardly spent any time in human form."

The cabin door swung open, revealing a pretty, dark haired woman with a sweet smile and wearing a dark blue apron dusted with flour. Josey was even tinier than her husband and barely came up to my chest. I had quite the crush on her not so long ago, and now I was beginning to remember why.

"Boys! It's so good to have you home again! We've all missed you so much!"

And suddenly found my arms full of hot werebear womanhood.

Guessed I was gonna need a cold shower after this.

Sam shook his head grinning, as though he knew exactly what I was thinking, and probably damn well did!

Janaya-Maria batted at Sam's nose with a small paw and appeared to giggle, in so far as bear cubs can giggle I suppose, when he reached down and tickled her belly.

Another familiar voice suddenly called out to us.

_Hey guys! That you? __You should see me now! It's sooo cool!_

Tobius grinned.

This was obviously the surprise he'd mentioned earlier.

We all turned, frowning when a huge, and I _mean huge,_ black bear lumbered clumsily out of the forest towards us at high speed, grinning proudly. But when it got closer and tried to apply the brakes, it's platter-sized feet skidded on some wet leaves. Eyes widening comically with fear, the bear slipped, barely missed Sam and Janaya, somehow turned in mid air, went down on its huge hairy ass and carried on going until it ploughed headfirst into Gerald's neatly stacked woodpile, scattering logs everywhere. It finished up with the piece de resistance, it's large, muscular legs swooping upright for a few moments then, like a couple giant sequoias taking the final curtain call, fell straight back down, landing with a loud thump.

Seriously, it was like watching a cross between a circus clown and Baloo.

_Andy? _Sam called out, tentatively with his mind. _That you?_

A soft groan proceeded the newly turned werebear's attempt to sit up, but as unaccustomed as he was to the weight he now carried, it took a little longer than usual and we all turned away, shoulders shaking and smothering our grins.

Finally, after another brief struggle, he sat up and shook his large head carefully.

_Wow! Really gotta get the hang of that, huh?_

Gerald cleared his throat politely, but I still heard the mirth buried in his tone.

_Andy has learned how to build up a good speed but I'm afraid the art of 'stopping' is proving more of a challenge for him. It's the height, ya see…he's just not used to it, but he will._

I nodded in agreement. _Guy goes from shrimp to __Robert Wadlow over night? I guess that's gonna be a little tricky to deal with._

_How do you feel, Andy?_ asked Sam, obviously worried about his friend.

_Uh… a little dizzy?_

Sam rolled his eyes, but looked relieved. _I **meant**, how do you feel being a werebear?_

Andy tilted his head slightly to the side and propped it up with a paw, looking thoughtful, and let me tell ya, that's definitely gotta be one of the million things you have to see before you die. _The Thinker_, bear style!

_It was weird at first, but my fur is __**soft**__. I was a little worried it would be itchy as hell, like bring me out in hives or something? But it's actually kinda nice. _Andy commented, honestly. _Though, I wasn't too keen on the whole nuts and berries routine for a while there. _He shifted uncomfortably and, somehow, I got the sense he was flushing with embarrassment. _I… uh… let's just say that I'm fairly regular these days…_

Sam blinked but said nothing at first. Then he finally got it. _Oh… OH! Right… yeah. Um, that's a little more than I needed to know, dude._

_Hey, you asked, _Andy replied, and casually reached up with a huge paw to scratch his belly.

Tobius finally spoke up at this point. _Excellent. Now that we've firmly established bear bowel movement frequencies, shall we proceed?_

Josey nodded and laughed. "Y'all come inside and sit down. Tobius had his famous venison lasagne slow-cooking away for ya, and I just pulled a fresh batch of chocolate fudge cake out of the oven," she winked at me and I felt the damn blush begin at the base of my neck and climb towards my ears.

My God! The woman was turning me into _Sam!_

Gerald chuckled, good naturedly. He's always known about me crushing on his wife and never once minded. Took it as a compliment in fact. He never gets jealous 'cos he knows Josey loves him to distraction. The guy's just that cool and, in spite of his occasional bouts of clumsiness, completely at ease with himself.

It was as we were climbing up the steps to the cabin that a question popped into my head.

_So who turned you, Andy? Josey or Gerald._

Andy, who was lumbering on all fours besides Josey, rubbed his nose into her hand when she reached out and stroked between his furry ears.

_I didn't know how to choose so they both did it. _Andy's wide, brown, bear eyes peered up at me, filled with moisture. _I finally got a family, Dean._ His voice quivered with emotion. _A real one that actually __**wants**__ me, and won't give me away to a stranger. I can't thank you guys enough for this._

He pushed his way into the cabin, muttering something about grabbing some clothes and changing back, and I stared at his big bear body as it disappeared out of sight into the hallway, almost knocking down a few walls along the way.

That actually almost had me tearing up. The kid's thanks was so heartfelt and deep, like we'd changed his life or something. But I guess, on glancing at Andy's new Mom and Dad, and baby sister nestled in Sam's arms, that's exactly what we'd done for him. He'd gone from a lonely wanderer and orphan, to a happy werebear with a family that loves him.

Hearing Sam laugh at the bear cub's antics, the tiny form now rolling on her back on the sofa, paws scrabbling at Sam's fingers whilst he continued to tickle her belly… yeah, I understood where Andy was coming from.

Meal time was held at the werebears' big pine kitchen table. Janaya-Maria sat in her high chair in human form, gurgling away happily and clapping her hands when Sammy played peek-a-boo. The table itself was heavily laden with full cream milk, nuts, berries, roast potatoes, chopped raw steak, blackened salmon seasoned with Cajun spices and a wonderful homemade dill sauce, garlic bread, and, of course, Sire's venison lasagne sat as centre piece in all it's wonderful, cheese smothered glory.

My stomach rumbled appreciatively when the scent of Saint Agur, a soft, creamy blue veined French cheese, wafted my way. I damn well love that stuff. First time I tried it I nearly ate the whole wedge in one mouthful. But combined with the sweet taste of fresh tomatoes in a lasagne, it makes for one hell of a symphony on the tongue, one to be savoured.

Dinner was full of laughter and animated conversation. I entertained the baby by stealing one of Sam's roast potatoes, to which he retaliated by waiting 'til my back was turned and pouring salt down my neck.

Tobius won the competition for best and biggest milk moustache, and poor Andy looked like he was actually in pain, he was laughing so hard.

Eventually, things calmed down a little as our bellies filled up with the delicious food, and the senior werebears discussed how they planned to build Andy his very own bedroom, and a garage for his van. Kid looked thrilled to bits.

Desert was the promised chocolate fudge cake with ice cream. Needless to say, I ate the most pieces and even cunningly slid a left over piece off Sire's plate and onto my own. SAS Le Salle saw me alright, but he just shook his head and laughed.

"Oh, before I forget, Pastor Jim and Bobby will be here tomorrow with Andy's van," Tobius mentioned later, as we were all seated outside the cabin, surrounding a large fire pit.

The flames were warming us into an almost sleepy contentment, and somewhere nearby a small bat fluttered through the trees.

"They called en route yesterday," Sire continued.

That sure made my ears prick up. "Yeah? Any news?"

"You might say that," Sire puffed momentarily on a cigar, blowing a perfect smoke ring. "They've been tracking a series of demonic omens."

"Like what?" asked Sam, frowning deeply.

"Unusual lightning strikes, two headed cows being born, that sort of thing, but the most common seems to be possession," another smoke ring slid by and disappeared smoothly into the night.

"Azazel?" Sam questioned again.

"No. He seems quite happy in his present meat suit," Sire informed us. "We suspect it's some kind of gathering. They all appear to be forming a pattern and moving in the same direction." But he raised an eyebrow. "Not all are _demon_ possessions, however. It seems that at least a few of the culprits are _ghosts._"

"Ghosts?" Gerald looked around our circle. "Is that even possible? For a human to be possessed by a ghost, I mean."

"Oh yeah," Josey answered him, softly, keeping her voice low for the sake of the sleepy bear cub in her arms. "Usually, the victim has some kind of psychic ability and can communicate with the dead, so the spirit uses that as a way in."

"And by the sounds of things, these particular ghosts are rather nasty," Tobius murmured, staring into the flames. "Rather like demons, they've been riding their victims hard, wearing them out and in some cases driving them insane."

"That _is_ unusual," replied Josey. I sometimes forget she's hundreds of years older than her husband. "Spirits only possess to seek reassurance or pass on a message, and they tend to be gentle with their hosts. But this sounds… just _brutal._"

"You said psychic abilities," Andy leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "What are we talking about here? Other special kids?"

"No, that wouldn't make sense," said Sam, and rubbed his chin. "Azazel wouldn't use the special kids for so mundane a task. He's got something more important in mind for us, Andy."

That sure made me sit up and pay attention. _Us_, Sam had said. That's right. The yellow eyed bastard would now seek to reclaim both Sam _and_ Andy. He would surely want revenge for turning yet another of his kids against him. But, for possibly the millionth time of asking myself, _how?_

"Any idea where they're heading?" I glanced over at Sire, praying that we had some idea at least.

"Possibly a small cemetery in Wyoming, and there's something else to take into account," Sire's eyes glowed when they turned my way. "Josey was quite right when she said the victims would normally hold some psychic ability, but these were carefully selected hosts, not found at random."

"What do you mean?" Sam spoke up after a brief, stunned silence.

"They are all practitioners of Wicca," came Sire's quiet reply. "Someone went to an awful lot of trouble to round them all up."

"Wow!" I muttered, scrubbing a hand down my face. "Guess we've got our work cut out for us, huh?"

"That's one way of putting it," said Tobius.

He was about to say something else when the fire pit suddenly _roared_ with a fiery burst of heat, the flames leaping around six feet in the air and I could feel my skin beginning to scorch painfully. Everyone leapt to their feet and backed away hurriedly, but Sam didn't get away fast enough. He was too busy shielding Josey and her cub with his body, when the sleeve of his shirt caught light and spread up his arm in an instant.

The pain must have been instant because he began screaming out, eyes clenched shut and leaking tears.

The bear cub fully came awake, mewling in fear, little eyes wide and staring up at her mom.

"Sam!" I grabbed hold of his other arm, pushed Josey back towards the cabin, then promptly knocked Sam's legs out from under him. The smell of cooked flesh made my gut churn violently as I pushed his injured arm into the dirt, and rolled him until the flames were finally extinguished.

It all happened so quickly, Sire and Gerald weren't given time to react from their places on the other side of the fire pit.

To top it all off, I didn't get a chance to check Sam over because suddenly Andy was standing in front of the fire, head lowered and eyes glowing a deep yellow, leaving us no doubt as to who this was. When he spoke it was with what sounded like a thousand voices, all twisted with anger and despair.

"_You have defied me for long enough, Samuel! You will take your place by my side!"_

Sam, panting in pain, gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, holding the injured arm against his chest.

His reply was fairly straight forward.

"Fuck you!"

_Atta boy!_

Azazel smiled and stepped closer. I didn't approve all that much and immediately tried to push Sam behind me, but the stubborn kid held his ground.

The demon tilted Andy's head, watching us with a serpent-like intensity.

"_You think it so easy. Simple child!" _Azazel blinked, then switched his gaze to Sire when he appeared by my side. _"As for you. Don't think you'll get off so lightly. When Jake catches up, and he will, he won't stop at merely killing you. He'll tear you and your family to pieces. And I have half a mind to let him!" _he snapped out and stepped towards Tobius this time, meeting his glare without a flinch. _"Having lost another of my special 'projects' to your pathetic little animal farm, I should destroy you where you stand!"_

Sire shrugged. "Perhaps you should, but you can't," he grinned smugly at the frustration crossing the demon's borrowed face. "You don't even know where we are. You're just borrowing Andy for a time. Interesting though, how you can get into his head, and not Sam's when you're unable find us."

"It's a one shot deal," Sam breathed out around his pain. "You only connected with Andy's mind the once, right? Probably via Lily during the last confrontation, and you've been waiting for the right moment to use it. That's how you knew he'd been turned and was no longer yours." He managed a cocky smile, in spite of his painful arm. "Made you mad, huh? And once we banish you, that connection is broken forever."

Azazel refocused his gaze back on Sam. _"Nicely guessed. It's a little more complicated than that though. Werebears are pure of heart, but naïve and more easily used than their wolf counterparts. Andy knew nothing about it, even before he was turned."_

"What the hell do you want?" I bit out, sharply, yanking off my button down shirt and using it to bind Sam's arm. "Just get it over with!"

And boy, was that sure loaded. By the time the yellow eyed bastard had finished, I was wishing I hadn't asked.

The demon laid it all out for us, or at least as much as any devious hell spawn could. Let's face it, lying is part of their job description so who knew just how much of his bullshit we could trust.

Turns out, Jake had been busy. He had plans to kill Sammy, govern the other children and rule all of hell. Apparently, once he caught wind of it, the current big hell boss was a little less than happy about another budding Morning Star competing for first place, and consequently sent Azazel to put a stop to it all.

Meg had obviously been busy in her demon-messenger role. Either that, or we'd been screwed right from the get go... somehow or other.

But dear ol'Jake had another ace up his sleeve, one he intended to use against the world by starting Armageddon. See, he didn't just wanna rule hell.

Oh no.

Greedy bastard wanted it all.

Somehow he found out a way to forge a special weapon and baptize it with his own demon tainted blood. Three guesses what it's made from…

Yep. Hardened silver. Quite the coincidence, right? And no surprise that the weapon is some kind of sword.

Yeah. I can hear your distain. Very Clash of the Fucking Titans, huh?

Yellow eyes gleamed intently.

"_You must destroy the sword by plunging it into the heart of its creator."_

Well, ain't _that_ just fucking great?

And I sure had a few things to say about _that!_

"That means confronting Jake head on," I growled, angrily. "Guy's too strong for any of us and Sam has a way to go before he's ready for a skirmish!"

And that was the moment.

That wonderful moment when the catch was revealed.

Azazel raised Andy's hand towards Sammy. _"You can fight him, but not without help. Take my blood. It will make you strong, but not only that, it will protect you from the effects of the sword. Silver won't harm you!"_

Sam shook his head and backed away. "No deal. I'm not touching that shit! You ruined my life once before. I won't risk it again by choice."

Gotta say, the relief that flooded through me was like a warm wave that unknotted the tension in my shoulders.

Azazel, however, wasn't so happy about it.

"_You're a fool with a death wish! Jake will not only use the weapon to kill your precious pack, the werebears and all your friends, but the power it wields can open the doors to the nine circles of hell! Is that what you want? To destroy the world by allowing Jake to unleash hell?" _he shook Andy's head. _"So selfish and prideful. And to think I'd selected you to rise as one of the nine dukes of hell. You could save everyone, Sam. All the people you love and cherish, but you'll throw away their lives for an all out war? I have enough problems with red tape without more demons on the loose."_

Sam remained silent, but I could see he was thinking it through.

"Where is this door to the circles of hell?" I demanded, glaring at the bastard. "Tell us so we can bury the damn thing in cement and purify the ground with holy water."

He shrugged and explained that there's a doorway to hell in every country on the globe, and that it wasn't the doorways themselves we needed to fear, but the person who opens them. It gives them unlimited power for a short time, but just enough to gain absolute control. Apparently, it is impossible to erase a helldoor because they are not physical barriers as such. A physical barrier wouldn't be strong enough to keep hell separated from this world. Instead, it is a force field that can only be penetrated by powerful high level demons or, temporarily, by Jake's sword.

This was getting a little too much for me. Yeah, demon's lie, but this?

"What a crock," I hissed out, suddenly, "of shit!"

Gently tying off Sam's temporary bandage into a sling to support his injured arm, I stared the demon straight in the eye.

"A demonic sword, huh? Can open the gates of hell and all that? Gimme a break!" I felt Sam's hand on my shoulder but shrugged him off. Last thing I needed right then was a calming influence. What I _needed_ was answers. "Seems just a little convenient, doncha think? And how the hell did Jake know how to construct such a weapon in the first place, huh? _You tell me that, you bastard!"_

Azazel merely smiled, but what he said next shocked the hell out of everyone present.

"_Why. Lunar dependent werewolves, of course."_

You could've heard a pin drop.

Ol'Yellow eyes went on to give us all a little known history lesson.

Lunar dependent werewolves are kind of descended from hell hounds. We knew that was likely true, 'cos Sire once told us that, as far as he was aware, lunar dependents were the result of an unholy union between demons and humans, so it wasn't much of stretch to go from _demon_ to demonic _hound_.

The first ever lunar dependent held the strongest blood link to hell. They also held the knowledge to opening the helldoor; given they are direct servants to the higher demons, that also wasn't much of a stretch.

Silver is a holy metal but mixed with demon blood it can produce a key to hell, and also an extremely powerful weapon.

"_Think of Dan Browne's 'Angels and Demons' if you will,"_ Azazel's smile was beginning to get on my nerves. _"The whole matter/anti-matter reaction, or good meets evil? No? Ok, that's a bad analogy but I'm sure you get my point." _

Over the centuries, such knowledge had been lost as the lunar dependents were hunted down by humans and non-lunars alike. Jake, by sheer chance, had run into a surviving first generation lunar dependent – that is, one of the first ever – a little while ago, and right before he tortured and killed it, the damn thing gave up its secret. Jake had immediately seen the advantage in going up against Sam with a demonic silver blade.

But Azazel's explanations didn't end there. It seems there is good reason why silver can also kill a _non_-lunar. It has nothing to do with being holy metal, but everything to do with an allergic reaction.

Yeah.

A damned_, _everyday, run of the mill_ allergic reaction!_

Shit!

Apparently, non-lunar haemoglobin is highly altered in non-lunars to cope with the excessive demands of iron from red meat, etc. But somehow, as a consequence, it also easily binds silver. A weird chemical reaction takes place at an atomic level which turns the silver into poison, and all this whilst it travels to the heart on a first class, all expenses paid journey.

I was beginning to see where this was heading. If Sam exposed himself once again to demon blood, then he wouldn't react with the silver should it enter his body via a wound. In the mean time, the demon blood itself would strengthen him, and all he would need to do was run Jake through with his own sword.

Yeah, real nice and easy, huh?

I bit my lip trying to steady my anger but my _own _blood was boiling.

"Gee. Thanks for the impromptu Chemistry lesson," my grin probably wasn't pleasant. "Now fuck off."

His eyes flared briefly, before he turned back to Sam. _"You'll change your mind, boy. And when you do, you can summon me." _He dropped some kind of parchment to the ground in front of the kid. _"Call anytime. Leave a message with my secretary."_

Then the yellow glow faded from Andy's eyes and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"Andy!" Josey gasped out and Gerald darted forward, scooping his new son into his arms. At the same time, Tobius picked up the parchment, gave it a cursory glance and tore it to pieces.

"Let's get him inside," the worried father strode up to the cabin, his wife and daughter in tow, and Sam slowly moving along at the back with Sire and me on either side of him.

_You ok, Sammy?_

_Uh… yeah. Just a little sore._

No kidding. His arm was probably starting to heal already, but that wouldn't stop it from stinging like a bitch.

As we shuffled into the cabin, Gerald was settling Andy onto the couch and prying open his eyes, attempting to wake him up. So far, it seemed, he was getting no response. Sam ignored my own attempts to check his arm and pushed passed me. Crouching down beside his friend, he laid a gentle hand on the kid's forehead and closed his eyes.

A few seconds later, Sam's eyes opened again and his smile was full of relief.

"He's just sleeping. The connection with Azazel took a lot out of him. He'll wake up soon enough." Sam glanced at me. "I think it was kind of like when Bobby was in my head, trying to flip my switches."

That I sure understood and nodded, but my fears weren't eased any.

"Now, c'mon runt. I wanna check your arm. And Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to sit so close to the fire in future, ok? Last thing we need is werewolf en flambé."

"Uhuh. I'll try to remember that."

"See that you do."

Over the next few hours Andy and Sam were made a fuss of and pampered to within an inch of their lives. Sam for protecting Josey and Janaya-Maria from the flames, and Andy because when he finally woke up, he was a little groggy for a while.

Poor kid didn't remember a thing, and given that Tobius spent several hours questioning him, I couldn't believe otherwise.

Andy was heartbroken when we told him, and his shoulders slumped under the heavy burden.

_I'm sorry... so sorry... I didn't know he was there... _Andy barely held back his tears, and I gotta say that I really felt bad for the little guy.

_Easy boy. _Tobius muttered to him. _You're fine now, and this isn't your fault._

But something told us his guilt would hold him at ransom for some time to come.

Not much we could've done for him right then. As I've learned the hard way with Sammy, only time and experience would ease his burden.

Come morning, Sam's arm was fully healed, a sign that his time out in the wilderness with the non-lunar home pack had brought his health back up to par, where it should have been all along. He also faithfully promised me that he would never touch microwaved food ever again, and fully admitted that the stuff was likely the main reason why he'd been taking so long to heal from injury over the last few weeks.

Tobius was deep in thought that night and barely slept. I sometimes heard him prowling around outside, obviously in human form, judging by the smell of cigar smoke. He never ventured far from the cabin, but I could tell he was restless and annoyed.

Sire needed to hunt, I suddenly realised. He probably hadn't been out properly since he sent us out to the home pack. No wonder the poor guy was frustrated.

_Sire? I can watch over things here. Just go._

There came a small pause before he answered.

_Are you sure? I don't like to leave given all that's happened tonight, but… I **need** to **run…**_

Huffing and snorting quietly, I replied _I'll call if anything crops up. Now get! And stay safe, you hear me?_

I heard his soft chuckle as he changed.

_Of course. Thank you my son._

The sudden empty silence told me he'd gone, tracking and hunting, probably eagerly sniffing out some rabbit or deer trail. Tobius was happy for now and probably wouldn't be back until dawn.

But that was ok. I had a lot to think about too. One troublesome aspect in particular?

I could tell that Sam was seriously considering Azazel's offer of demon juice. Guess I didn't blame him, but there was something about the whole thing that bugged me, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't put my finger on it.

_**Author's notes:**_

_**Robert Wadlow: full name **_**Robert Pershing Wadlow, born **_**February 22, 1918, died in his sleep July 15, 1940 from an infected ankle blister caused by a dodgy brace. **_

_**The tallest man recorded in history, also known as the **_**Giant of Illinois, **

_**he required leg braces in order to walk due to his sheer size.**_

_**Poor guy was around Sam's age when he passed away.**_

_**So there you have it. Andy is now a werebear, and immortal. **_

_**He's really joined the team now, eh?**_

_**And, it seems, that Azazel has upped the stakes somewhat. But just how much of what he says can be believed...?**_

_**Many thanks for all your wonderful reviews, darlings!**_

_**May the limpSam continue!**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	18. Chapter 18

**Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 18**

_**Now…**_

**Dean appears to be sulking. Eyes narrowed, shoulders a little hunched, his mouth all but pouting. He's watching Sam, whose sitting on the river bank some distance away, face turned to the sky, feet dangling in the water.**

"**He's changed in the last few days. Told me to stop hovering, that I was making him nervous," Dean sounds grumpy, like a petulant child. "Was only trying to help, make sure he stays safe but, oh no! He has to go all Miss Prissy Independent on me. I think he heard my 'clingy' comment during the intro of that last journal entry."**

**A large hand grips Dean's shoulder for a moment, and then Tobius drops down beside him in the grass.**

"**He knows you mean well, Dean, but he's right," his sire advises, kindly. "Just give him a little space. Sam needs to feel useful, that he can help himself without someone shadowing him all the time."**

**Dean huffs and relaxes slightly. "Yeah, I know. I just…" he shakes his head, a little defeated. "Never mind."**

**Tobius watches him through half closed eyes. "I understand how hard this is for you, but a sense of self-worth and independence might well be what Sam needs to initiate a full change," he shrugs lightly. "Just a theory, but it holds some merit."**

**Dean hasn't taken his eyes off Sam, watching him constantly for any hint that he needs help. The very moment he does look away, however, is the one time Sam _does _actually need him.**

**Dean turns to his Sire. "You're right. I get it. I should learn to be supportive in a non-crowding capacity."**

**Meanwhile, Sam gets to his feet slowly and carefully, but unfortunately loses balance, wobbling alarmingly on his feet…**

**Tobius grins. "You've been reading that book I gave you: 'Blind faith: emotional healing for the blind'? I'm impressed. First time I've seen you read a book without pictures."**

**Dean scowls good naturedly, just as they both hear Sam cry out, shortly before a loud splash, and Tobius and Dean are on their feet, running towards the river bank.**

**Both dive off the edge and minutes later, after some shouting and splashing, they reappear dripping wet and carrying an equally wet Sam between them. Both senior werewolves are sporting black eyes and split lips, but the youngster is quiet and solemn, not acknowledging his family's gentle whispers and encouragement in any way shape or form. His sun shades are still somehow fixed firmly on his nose and his mouth is turned down with sadness. One gets the sense that Sam panicked in the water and went postal.**

"**I'll build the fire up again," Tobius drops his arm from Sam's shoulders and steps out of shot, presumably to carry out his self-appointed task.**

**Dean merely nods and lowers himself to the grass, taking Sam with him.**

"**Sam…"**

"**You don't have to say it, ok?" Sam barks out sharply. "I know!"**

"**Know what?" asks Dean, and runs a hand gently through the kid's sopping hair. "Know that as smart and capable as you are, you're gonna make mistakes? That you're still getting used to all this?" He nods. "Yeah, that about sums it up."**

**Sam sags in Dean's arms and sniffs loudly. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mean to snap at you. Or... h-hit you..."**

**Dean shakes his head and pulls him closer. "I know you didn't, kid. No need to apologize."**

"**God! I'm such a mess!" Sam answers that in a heartbroken voice.**

"**No you ain't!" it's Dean's turn to get snappy. "Now cut that out, you hear me? No more of it! You're doing just fine."**

**Sam falls silent for a moment before asking "How can you say that after what just happened?"**

"**Sammy, listen to me," Dean turns to fully face Sam then grasps the youngster's tear and river stained face between gentle hands. "You over balanced and fell head first into the river. The water disoriented you, of **_**course**_** you were going to panic. You think I would've been any different if I was blind, and fell? Dude, I wouldn't have known up from down!"**

"**Indeed," Tobius, sounding amused, backs Dean up from his place out of shot. "I believe under those circumstances he might well have soiled himself."**

"**Hey!" Dean protests indignantly, face turning a little red.**

**Sam snorts and a weak, but genuine smile emerges.**

"**C'mere," Dean grins back and presses Sam's head to his shoulder. "I got the next journal entry to make so get some sleep, whilst **_**someone**_**" he glares pointedly off camera "can go get dinner."**

**A soft laugh from nearby deepens into a low growl, and a flash of black and tan fur across the camera lens suggests that Tobius is on the hunt.**

**Dean watches Sire bound away, a fond smirk on his face.**

"**So," the smile fades. "On with the show…"**

_**Then…**_

By the time dawn hit and the skies were awash with early morning sunlight, Sam was awake and pacing slowly up and down outside the cabin. His footsteps told me he was in human form, and I would have bet money I knew what was on his mind.

Sighing heavily, I got out of bed and took a hot shower, using the time to figure out what I was going to say to him.

This wasn't a conversation I was looking forward to and, if not handled carefully, I suspected it wouldn't end well. How right I was...

Andy, Josey, Gerald and the baby weren't yet up, which was a sign of how tired out they must have been, Andy especially after his ordeal with Azazel.

Werebears are early risers as a general rule, mainly because they love to fish during the early hours, when the ambient temperature is at an all time low. The colder the better, in fact. They don't get on with the heat so well, not surprisingly given all that fur.

Werewolves on the other hand can deal with either. Our cooling mechanisms are better evolved, but then we travel a lot whereas werebears tend to settle in one place. Preferably at the top of the coldest mountain!

Dressing quickly in my usual Led Zeppelin tee-shirt, jeans and boots, I moved silently through the cabin. Outside the window, I could just make out Sam's silhouette against the morning sky, moving back and forth. His shoulders appeared painfully tense and I winced in sympathy.

He must have sensed me because he halted abruptly. I couldn't see his face for the shadows, except for the glowing blue-green eyes, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he wasn't smiling.

_Hey, Sammy._

He didn't answer me right away, just shifted from foot to foot, until I opened the door and joined him outside on the veranda.

_Hey. _Sam sounded nervous, like he knew what was coming and didn't like it any more than I did.

Time to cut to the chase.

_I know what you're thinking, Sam. And there's no way I'm gonna let you._

He huffed, shifted again and then leaned against the cabin wall.

_It'll protect me from the silver. _His eyes flared brightly for an instant.

_Yeah? _I stepped closer until I could finally see the mutinous expression on his face. _And what else will it do to you, Sam? Huh? Azazel has an agenda, and somehow getting you back is a part of that. But what's __**also**__ a part of that, is turning you darkside._

Sam shook his head. _It's just something to stop the allergic reaction, like mystical anti-histamine._

_Not mystical, Sam,_ _try demonic, _I retorted, feeling a stir of anger. This shouldn't have surprised me, that Sam was still seriously considering the demon's offer of help but somehow it did. _Trusting them is one thing – they already betrayed us when he sent Lilly after Andy. But this? You're talking about drinking their blood, Sam! _

Sam sighed. _They won't hurt me. They need me to take care of Jake._

_Oh sure, yeah, it'll give you the power to kill the bastard, but that stuff could poison you!_ I was damn near screeching at him in our heads by now. _Make you one of them!_

He pushed away from the wall and rounded on me.

_Then what do you suggest, huh? I can't beat Jake any other way! He'll tear me to pieces right before he starts on the rest of you! And I-I can't let that happen, Dean, I just can't! _Sam's voice broke and I could see the tears glistening within the blue green glow of his eyes. _I'm scared shitless of losing you and Tobius._

I had to stiffen my resolve and not let those damn puppy dog eyes rule the outcome.

_I'm telling you now, Sam. Drop this idea or I swear to God I will hogtie you and leave you chained up in the cabin!_

Sam's scowl was epic.

_If the only way of beating Jake and keeping my family safe is to take the demon blood, then I'll do it like a shot!_ His nostrils flared with each panted breath, eyebrows drawn down and lips stretched thin. _And don't tell me that if the roles were reversed you wouldn't do the same!_

Damn kid had me there but no way was I going to admit it. Sam's life was on the line and I wasn't going to let him win this argument.

Unfortunately, it was time for some cheap shots. Little did I know how much I would hate myself for doing this…

_Sam, I put __**everything **__into this family. Give you everything you need, all the support I can. So let me tell you that I did __**not**__ go through all that parenting crap just so you can throw your life away! _

For all my careful thought, it still came out totally wrong, and I cursed my big mouth for running away with me.

Sam's jaw dropped and I heard the faint whoosh as shock stole the air from his lungs. The glow in his eyes dimmed with hurt but I was too scared and too angry to take it back.

With a fierce glare, I turned away and stalked back into the cabin.

It was a low blow and should never have been said. I'd effectively told him he was a burden, that he _owed _me for his very existence. And whilst that might have been partially true, it's not something that should ever have been uttered out loud, even in jest. Fact is, Sammy's just as responsible for my continued survival, and he's saved my ass hundreds of times. If anything happened to him, I just couldn't go on.

Eventually, I would come to regret like hell that I'd pushed him too far.

A few hours later, Sire returned from his hunt and we were all seated round the kitchen table eating breakfast in an awkward silence. Sam's eyes were downcast the whole time and he barely spoke, just nibbled on his bacon and eggs with little enjoyment. Tobius had sensed something was up the minute he entered the cabin, but just raised his eyebrows at me in question.

I'd shaken my head and he got the message that we'd discuss it later.

Andy, with his usual dislike of silences at the dinner table, glanced around and had presumably decided that he didn't like _this_ silence any better. He began prattling away in our heads about nothing in particular, and I have to say that it came as a comfort after a while. Anything was better than seeing Sam's hurt face out the corner of my eye.

Before the end of the meal, however, Sam abruptly excused himself, and went to empty his half full plate into the trash, before pulling open the cabin door.

_Sam? _Sire called out before I could. _Where are you going, pup?_

Sam's reply was sullen and quiet.

_For a run. Alone. Back later._

Without another word he headed outside, changed, and galloped off into the forest, leaving a small forlorn looking pile of clothes on the veranda.

Tobius gave me a look.

_Care to explain?_

I threw down my fork, appetite well and truly vanished, and pushed back my chair.

_Let's just say that Sammy said some stupid things. _Dumping my plate in the sink, right on top of Sam's I closed my eyes for a second. _Then I said something even worse. _

My chest felt tight, pulse racing, hands shaking a little.

Things were getting out of hand, what with Azazel's appearance the night before, the offer to help Sam defeat Jake and his He Man sword, and the possibility that Sam might accept said offer… I could feel the panic rising inside, making my gut churn angrily and I just knew what was gonna happen next.

I was out the cabin door, jumping off the veranda and barely making it to the tree line before violently throwing up. It hurt, felt like my gut was trying to climb right up my throat, and with my mouth flooded it had nowhere else to go, so the acidic bile pushed its way up and out through my nostrils with the force of a high pressure water cannon. I couldn't breathe, my vision was blurred by tears of exertion, and someone was trying to talk to me but I couldn't hear, couldn't see and couldn't ask for help.

Black dots danced in front of my eyes and my fingers and toes slowly went numb. This wasn't a change coming on.

Nah. I was too busy passing out for a change right then...

Had no idea where the hell I was when I finally came round, but I was lying back against something soft and warm. It moved slightly and my eyes flew open. Back in the cabin, it appeared that my impromptu recliner was actually Andy in bear form, and we were seated in front of the living room fire place. His snout puffed warm breaths of air down my neck and a large meaty paw was gently stroking my hair.

_Dude? Stop that right now! It's making me uncomfortable._

The bear shifted and pushed his large hairy face into mine. He appeared to be grinning.

_Hey man! You're awake! You scared us, dude._

I blinked a few times and when I tried to sit up, Sire was there, carefully helping me.

_Feeling any better, pup? _he murmured, eyes filled with concern.

_Uh… yeah. What the hell happened to me?_

He reached over and lifted a steaming mug from the coffee table, then determinedly wrapped my fingers around it.

_Drink some of this. It'll help steady you. Josey and Gerald decided to take the baby out for the day, give you some time to recover._

In other words, Tobius had asked for some space.

The faint scent of brandy, spices and ginger wafted into my nostrils, already beginning to calm my sore stomach. But it didn't answer my question.

_Sire? What __**was**__ that? _I asked again.

He sat back on his heels and eyed me closely. _You suffered a severe panic attack, Dean. It's nothing to worry about, just extremely unpleasant._

My eyes widened and this time I spoke out loud. "_That_ was a _panic attack? _Jesus! Felt like Mount Vesuvius erupted in my gut!"

Sire smiled faintly. "Yes, a typical werewolf version, and it's a sign that things are getting a little on top of you. You're worrying way too much, youngster, although that's understandable under the circumstances."

And that brought on another burst of anxiety. "How long was I out? Where's Sammy? Is he back yet?" My stomach pulsed a little in protest.

Sire raised an eyebrow. "You were out for just over an hour. Sam's fine. He headed out to meet Pastor Jim and Bobby Singer. He may well be riding with them as we speak, though he's rather worried about you."

"You told him?" I demanded, not happy to hear that.

"Absolutely," Tobius answered straight off. "As I would if the roles were reversed. Sam's fully aware of your condition."

I snorted. "_Condition?_ I ain't pregnant ya know!"

Sire folded his arms. "And thank heavens for that," he muttered, sardonically. "We'd never hear the end of it."

Two hours later, I could smell Bobby, The Pastor and Sam over the scent of the truck and Andy's van, and I stood waiting at the end of the track by the cabin, watching as they came into view and bumped over the rough, rocky ground.

Sam, in wolf form, sat in the passenger seat of the truck, wet nose pressed to the gap in the open window and snuffling at the mountain breeze.

_Sam?_

His head shot round and blue green eyes fixed on me through the windshield. As the truck pulled to a stop and he jumped out, Sam kept his distance, belly low, and tail well and truly down.

_Sammy?_

_Dean. You… uh… feeling any better?_

Those beautiful sad eyes were watching me, and I just didn't know what to say. So I said nothing of any importance, which was just plain _dumb._

_Yeah. I'm better… thanks._

Bobby had alighted from Andy's van whilst Jim had climbed out from behind the wheel of the truck, and both men were now obviously aware that there was an _atmosphere _because they just stood there silently, waiting for me to say hi_._

"Hey guys," I took a pace forward, feeling my heart break when Sammy skittered back a few steps.

God! I'd really hurt the poor kid.

It hadn't gone unnoticed because Bobby narrowed his eyes whilst pulling me into a hug at the same time. Wisely, he didn't mention it, though I could tell he was dying to ask.

"Dean, ya looking… uh," he peered into my face. "Kinda pale. You ok?"

My eyes lit on Sam's again. "Yeah. Just a little tired is all."

Just then, a very human Andy ran out to us and practically orgasmed over his truck, and I had to keep from laughing. Guy was like me with the Impala

Sam just let out a faint whine and trotted off to the cabin.

The Pastor watched him go with a worried frown, then turned back to greet me. I could tell that, unlike Bobby, he wasn't going to stay quiet.

"You two boys have a lot on your plate," Jim murmured, softly. "And I know things are tough right now, but you can't afford a rift. Whatever it is, fix it Dean. Before it's too late."

I just nodded. The way it stood between Sammy and me right then, it wasn't gonna be quite so easy to 'fix' _any_thing.

There was little point in dwelling on it, so I ushered the men inside the cabin and we all sat round the kitchen table with Tobius at the head. He had Azazel's map in front of him and a deep frown on his face. Sam, now changed and fully clothed, was sitting next to Andy with a mug of what smelled like hot chocolate in front of him. He refused to meet my gaze, and resolutely kept his eyes on the map.

I knew I couldn't let it fester but every time I tried to talk to him over the next few hours, he excused himself from the room to visit the bathroom, or got up to grab some food, or just outright changed the subject. And that should have been my first hint the little shit was planning something.

Without asking, Sam busied himself with making hot chocolate for everyone, which would have struck me as odd if I'd been paying closer attention, but the conversation was moving forward swiftly.

We explained to the men what had happened the night before, with the YED's visit and his offer of demon blood. Sam had visibly tensed up at that part but said nothing. The mention of possessed wiccans had Bobby grunting in disapproval, before he grabbed the map and pulled it close.

"Damn Wiccans don't know what the hell they're getting mixed up in, anyhow! Cycles of nature, my ass," he grumbled softly, ever the old cynic. "Now, let's see what we got here."

Pastor Jim leaned over his shoulder and made a soft noise of triumph.

"I know that place."

Bobby glanced up at him, sceptically. "Huh? Really?"

"Yep," Jim nodded and sat back in his chair. "It's a graveyard in North Wyoming called Noirmont, or Mont. Noir, quite literally meaning Black Mountain in French." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "And it's a damn fine name for it."

I swallowed back my shock at hearing a cuss word passing the Pastor's lips.

"Why do you say that?" asked Sam, quietly, almost shy, handing out mugs of steaming chocolately goodness.

Jim smiled grimly. "Because the place is, in fact, damned."

"Even so," Sam murmured. "Strange place to put a church, doncha think?"

"There _is _no church there. Never has been," Jim answered, and peered at the map again. "This isn't your ordinary run of the mill cemetery."

Got _that _straight.

Black Mountain was the graveyard of all murderers, rapists, suicides and thieves from a couple of hundred years ago, or so the legend goes. There was no church built to serve these people for they were considered evil, instead they were buried with no rites or ceremony, and some left with only rudimentary grave markers in the form of a rock, sometimes with their name roughly scratched on by some grieving family member who couldn't afford anything decent. Most graves weren't marked at all.

Loosely translated, these were the dregs of society who came from nothing and lived with nothing, treated like shit and pissed on by the rich and well to do. Probably driven by poverty and desperation to crime, they died without ever being given the opportunity to confess their sins and beg forgiveness.

If ever there was a smart place to put a hell door then Black Mountain was probably it. Black and bleak, with wasted dreams and lost hope, from the cradle to the grave, those poor souls had never stood a chance.

Tobius drummed his fingers rather clumsily on the table and blinked slowly.

"Hmm, I suggest humans arm themselves with consecrated iron rounds as well as…" another slow blink. "What was I saying again?"

Funny that. I couldn't remember either. A small belched slipped out of my mouth and I grinned. "S-sorry guys."

Bobby actually _giggled_. Never heard him do that before. A chuckle, maybe. A guffaw even, but _never_ a _giggle._

Andy tipped forward and landed face down on the table, happily snoozing away.

A small snore had us glancing at Pastor Jim. The guy was out cold, leaning back in his chair, mouth slack, and that's when my suspicion grew.

A little late, admittedly, but better late than never huh?

As Tobius and Bobby joined Andy and Jim in the land of Nod, I tried so hard to stare at Sam, making the glare as stern as possible, but he was wavering in and out of my vision, smiling sadly at me.

_Sammmm…_

_Dean. I'm sorry…you got sick because of me…_

_Wha?_

_You were right. What you said. But I need to do this... for you. I hope you'll understand someday. Just trust me..._

I was fighting desperately against whatever he'd given us, needing to stay awake, somehow knowing that if I didn't succeed then this might well be the last time I'd ever see Sammy alive.

_NooooSammmmmyyyyyy… was jus… was… was jus… over… overwhelmed…don't goooo._

He got up and slid something on the table then gently pushed my head down to rest on it. Some kind of soft pillow, by the feel of it.

_Love you Dean._

Last thing I felt was Sammy pressing a gentle kiss to my temple, and I knew no more, until Gerald was shaking me awake many hours later, a wide eyed Josey doing the same to Tobius.

Angry and scared, we immediately figured out what he'd spiked our hot chocolate with. The same stuff we'd once used on him; without taste or scent, it was undetectable, though he must've used one hell of a dose.

And that's when the panic really hit, because not only was Sammy gone but so was the map and, we soon discovered, the little shit had stolen Bobby's truck and disabled all remaining vehicles. Including the Impala.

We were stuck there whilst Sam went off to face all kinds of God forsaken danger on his own and with no one to watch his back.

_Godammit Sammy!_

_**Authors' notes:**_

_**Naughty boy, Sam! I think you'll be in for a smacked bottom before this is over.**_

_**Before the smart arses amongst you speak up, yes Mont. Noir, North Wyoming is completely made up, as is the cemetery and its history, and yes my French is terrible.**_

_**Ok? Happy? Can we move on now?**_

_**Cheers darlings!**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	19. Chapter 19

**Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 19**

_**Now...**_

**Sam is sitting back by the river, but this time Dean is perched next to him, and they engage in a brief water fight with their feet, kicking up and splashing each other. The camera is at a safe distance but angled so the watcher can still see the sparkling water.**

**Both boys are in their birthday suits, gloriously firm skin, kissed a deep nut brown by the sun. Glowing and healthy, muscles ripple like silk with each movement. **

**Wrinkled clothes lie draped across a nearby bramble bush, dried out and long forgotten.**

**They've clearly been living wild for some time now, because their jaw lines carry stubble and even Dean's hair curls round his ears and rests on his shoulders. It's a pleasant sight, and softens his handsome features. Sam's falls over his face and despite the boy's persistent efforts to push it back, long chestnut locks cascade down to just above his well formed pectorals.**

**The boys suddenly cease all movement when Sam cocks his head to the side, eyes hidden by the sunshades. A hand is raised in a 'stay still' gesture, and he appears to be listening intently.**

**After a few minutes, with an air of confidence that suggests he's been practicing this for some time, Sam reaches out a hand with lightning speed and snatches a large wriggling fish from the river.**

"**Allow me to present… **_**dinner!**_**" Sam's smile is genuine, if a little sad, and Dean applauds with enthusiasm.**

"**Still gets me how you do that, Sammy," Dean exclaims proudly, and ruffles the boy's hair. "I can't even **_**see**_** the damn things unless I'm up close in the water."**

**Sam just shrugs and kicks up his feet again, sending a wave of water into his **_**fatherbrother's **_**face.**

"**Pure skill, dude," he replies with mock cockiness. "Just pure skill."**

**Although Dean is laughing, the camera catches the gleam of concern in his eyes as he watches Sam like a hawk. **

**But just then… his eyes widen.**

"**Sammy, your legs," he whispers in awe.**

**Sam stops kicking and holds his breath. One hand extends downwards and feels tentatively along a muscular thigh.**

"**Dean, I can feel it..." Sam's voice is shaking with excitement and, maybe, just a little fear.**

**And then, suddenly, burnished red-gold fur is growing from Sam's legs, thick, lush and soft. His feet, still submerged in the water, change slowly into huge red paws the size of sandwich plates. But it doesn't end there...**

"**Oh God, Dean, I can feel my hands..."**

**Dean gets to his feet and drags Sam away from the water.**

"**Sire! Might need a little help here!"**

"**Dean?" Sam sounds as scared now as he did the very first time he changed, and Dean is quick to reassure him.**

"**It's ok, Sammy, I think you're gonna do it this time," Dean replies, assisting Sam's half changed form back to the camp fire. "Just need to get you away from the water in case anything goes wrong."**

**Sam nods his head quickly, and gasps as the fur spreads up to his stomach and keeps on going, covering a thin, fading scar on his chest.**

**Tobius is there in a flash, holding Sam up on the other side. The youngster's hips are attempting to break and re-knit, and this combined with trying to walk upright like a human has to hurt like hell.**

"**Are you in any pain, young pup?"**

"**A l-little," Sam gasps louder and almost doubles over. **

**Talk about an understatement.**

**Tobius pauses and gently grasps Sam's chin, tilting it up.**

"**I… can **_**give**_** you something for it..." his grandfather seems at odds with the offer, but Sam is already shaking his head.**

"**N-no, I need to do this without help... please, let me do this!"**

**Tobius and Dean glance at each other, both smiling with pride and sadness. The alpha nods and pats Sam's shoulder, now also growing the silky red fur.**

"**Good boy."**

**They move away from the river, the camera forgotten during this time of miracles. The digital watcher can no longer see the little pack, but the cries of its youngest wolf in terrible pain are unmistakable.**

**It goes on for a while and, in the meantime, the river has fallen silent. There are no birds singing, or squirrels foraging for food, even the trees are motionless, as though nature herself has bowed her head in respect.**

**Eventually the screaming stops. **

**Soft footsteps are heard approaching from nearby, and then the world goes upwards, the evening sky flashing passed just before Dean's tired but happy face appears in front of the lens.**

"**Sorry about that," he shrugs. "Didn't mean to leave you out here all alone. It's been a while since our last journal entry, about two months or so I guess, but I watched the last one when everyone was napping this afternoon, and maybe now it's time..."**

**Dean turns the camera around as he begins moving.**

"**Sam's finally done it," his voice is soft but easily heard over his footfalls in the lush green grass. "He's made a full change."**

**Up ahead, the fire is crackling away. Tobius is still in human form, crouched down, whispering and stroking the ears of a beautiful big red wolf with blank silver eyes.**

"**The good news is, Sammy **_**can**_** see a little in wolf form, though it's pretty dim and blurred, hence the eye colouring," Dean carries on talking in that soft voice as he nears the fire. "It's progress, though Sire doesn't know if he's well enough for a full on hunt just yet, but we're sure his hearing and sense of smell will definitely compensate. We can only hope…"**

**Sam's squinting, head down and snout sniffing furiously.**

**When Dean's close enough, he reaches out a hand and runs it lightly over the wolf's head and smoothes the soft fur down his back. The youngster whines and shivers with delight, and pushes into Dean's hand as if to say **_**missed that sooo much.**_

"**Me too kiddo," Dean answers him immediately, a big happy smile on his face.**

**The camera is placed back in its usual spot by the fire, and Dean snuggles up to Sam whilst Tobius prepares the evening's catch.**

**Dean suddenly chuckles and Tobius grins.**

"**Sammy just said that he'd like to stay like this for a while, so don't expect too much input on the journal intros," Dean tells the camera.**

**Tobius stops what he's doing for a moment, and gazes at Sam. **

"**Actually, that's probably wise, given what happens next, hmm? It might prove a little too much for you at this stage."**

"**Ohhh yeah," Dean nods and blows gently into Sam's ears. The wolf sneezes and buries his huge wet snout in Dean's neck. Laughing, Dean grabs the long nose and gently pushes him away. Then he sobers and stares into Sam's silver eyes. "Maybe we should wait until you're asleep, huh Sam? We still haven't really talked about what happened…"**

**He breaks off as the red wolf sits up straight and lets out a small growl.**

"**Yeah, I know, Sam, but…"**

**Another growl, louder this time.**

"**Alright!" Dean raises his hands in resignation, but sighs. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."**

_**Then…**_

I was fuming. Can't even _tell_ you how angry I felt, but even that was eclipsed by the utter fear almost paralyzing me. I'd tried Sam's cell phone a few times when thought projection failed, but all I got was his voice mail.

Tears threatened, my eyes burned, but I sniffed them back furiously and joined in the coffee vigil. We watched over the humans, observing their mental and physical state, whilst we sipped our own caffeine free brew.

Bobby and Pastor Jim had been heavily affected by the herbal drug, more so than the rest of our group, and soon abandoned drinking the stuff for shovelling great spoonfuls of dried, instant caffeinated coffee into their mouths. I grimaced and Andy was nearly sick from just watching, but Tobius merely kept on filling up their bowls.

We could've let them just sleep it off. Except, amongst Bobby Singer's drugged ramblings a few minutes after he was shaken awake, and the situation explained to him, was a muttering about relocation spells, and that if he had one right then he'd relocate Sammy's backside over his knee.

Kinda understood how he felt, but that spell proved useful in other ways...

Sam was out there somewhere, alone and in danger. If that bastard Jake caught up with him…

Bobby blinked and put down his bowl, belched and rubbed his gut.

"That's gonna hurt come mornin'," he declared in a hoarse voice. "Anyone for a stomach ulcer?"

Pastor Jim, poor guy, said nothing. Just sat there looking green and chewing methodically on his coffee granules.

I tried to remain patient and keep from drumming my fingers on the kitchen table.

"Maybe I should change and head out after him, you guys can pick me up when you're ready."

It wasn't the first time I'd said it. But instead of the shaking heads and scornful protests, _this _time they all just ignored me.

They were right, of course. There was little point in splitting up when we could all relocate together, as one fighting force. But try telling that to an anxious father whose only thoughts are of his missing son, and how he was gonna hug the daylights out of him as soon as we caught up.

And then... _beat the living crap outta him!_

But... Sam's last words kept haunting me, making my heart ache and gut churn.

_Love you Dean._

The room felt hot and oppressive all of a sudden, and I just couldn't take it any longer.

"Sammy…" I actually _whimpered_ in distress, slammed my fist down on the table, pushed my seat back and fled the cabin.

It was nice and cool outside, and the sweat began to cool on my brow. I rested both hands on the veranda railings and took a deep breath, head bent 'til I was staring at the wooden decking.

_Dean,_ Sire was there, gently squeezing my neck. Hadn't even realized he'd followed me. _We'll find him. Bobby's already figuring out the incantation. Says it won't be long before we're under way._

Not knowing how to answer, I just shook my head in despair.

_With a bit of luck, we'll beat Sam to the graveyard. He's travelling by truck, but we'll be going first class on Transethereal Airlines._

I managed a small smile at that. _You've been hanging with me too long, Sire._

After a pause he said quietly. "Thank goodness for that."

Turning to look directly at him, I was shocked by the deep fear and sadness in his eyes. I guess I sometimes forget that Tobius loves Sam as much as I do.

_Supposing he runs into trouble along the way… before he even gets there?_

Tobius pursed his mouth and stared out into the forest.

_We have to trust that he can look after himself, my son. He's not stupid. Impetuous yes, but not stupid. He knows how much is riding on this._

Following his gaze, I watched the sun begin its slow journey down the sky.

_Yeah. He does. That's what worries me._

Must have stood there for a long while, because by the time Bobby emerged grim-faced from the cabin with Pastor Jim in tow, it was twilight, the sky a deep indigo lit up by a full moon.

"Well... hope you boys are ready for this," Bobby growled. But I knew he wasn't finished by the way he lifted his ball cap, had a good scratch in that nervous way of his, and replaced the cap. His eyes narrowed as they fixed on me. "This ain't no ordinary spell, you understand. This is _sorcery_."

A shiver went down my spine at his low words. Guy had clearly spent some time grappling with his conscience over this, so I was grateful he'd come down on our side.

_Sam's _side.

"Ain't nothin' to take lightly, and I must warn you now," Bobby carried on staring at me. "I can get us there, but getting us out again might not be so easy. It's hard going and eats energy like coal in a steam engine." He nodded, and I felt the blood drain from my face when the implication sank in. "This could be a one shot deal: once we're deep in the shit, that's where we'll stay, at least until I can recharge."

In other words, just beaming in and beaming out again, taking Sammy right along, wasn't an option. If there was a fight awaiting us, we would have no choice but to take up arms.

That sealed it then. It was time to get our crap together.

Minutes later, Tobius was loading a shot gun with salt cartridges, and another with iron. He closed the chambers simultaneously with a loud _clunk _that echoed round the kitchen and made Andy jump, spilling a little of his holy water. That worried me, until I realized the little guy was just hopped up on adrenaline, like the rest of us.

Josey and Gerald, having been talked out of coming along, had been sent away a few hours ago by Tobius and Bobby, clutching their sleeping baby bear. Gut instinct told me they'd been given a special destination of their own, one with a much safer path.

Andy had decided to tackle this in bear form, and given his stature as a human, I couldn't blame him. He did, however, rig up a belt he could wear across his enormous chest that held holy water and salt sellers just large enough to fit in his paws. That nearly made me chuckle. I had the perfect image in my head of a huge black bear going postal with condiments.

The humans armed themselves with holy water, consecrated iron rounds, and silver. They also knew the Ritual Romanum off by heart, which would be useful if Tobius and I were forced to change at any time.

As werewolves, we also carried carefully wrapped silver blades, just for good measure. After all, who knew what the hell we would be up against in that damn graveyard?

One last glance around the cabin, making sure we had everything we might need, and we all filed back outside.

With a loud grunt and a roar, Andy stood up on his hind legs, changed into bear form and stretched out. Pastor Jim reached up and wrapped the heavy belt over Andy's shoulder and across his chest, bandolier style, buckling it tightly.

"There ya go. That comfortable?" Jim asked, as though helping a bear dress for battle was an everyday occurrence for him. Andy waved his big snout up and down in an affirmative. "You sure? Not too tight?"

Andy wiggled his hips experimentally, and pounced into attack mode, claws out and swiping round in a circle of menace. Then he stopped, relaxed, and nodded again.

_You ok there, dude?_ I had to ask.

_Oh yeah! _The bear replied with a growl, and bared his teeth. _I ain't gonna make it so damn easy for Jake this time. I got my __**own **__scores to settle._

Again, I had to stifle my laughter. It was surreal as hell, watching a battle bear gearing up for war and, for a moment there, I began wondering if I was ever getting out of Narnia.

"Ok, let's roll…" Bobby stepped out into the forest and we followed on silently in a single file.

In all, we were just four short of the full fellowship, but at least our version of Gandalf weren't wearing no dorky robes, even if his ball cap _had_ seen better days. And let's face it, the idea of Bobby Singer in a dress is a pretty scary one.

Our very own master wizard stopped in a large clearing a few miles from the cabin, then spent a few precious minutes checking the area and muttering to himself.

"Bobby? Problem?" I barked out, anxious to get on with it. The film analogies were only keeping my fear at bay so much, but all the while I could feel the clock ticking away. I could _feel_ the danger Sam was in, calling to me all the time, begging me to find him, and fast.

"Just makin' sure there's plenty of space," Bobby grumbled, and we soon found out why it was so important. "Stand in a wide circle around me, keep your eyes shut until I tell ya, and keep your thoughts on Sam and that graveyard."

We all stood in silence. I pictured Sam's sad eyes, and once again heard his whispered words from last time I saw him.

_Love you, Dean…_

The first wave of power from Bobby didn't touch us, but it certainly hit the trees at the edge of the clearing, judging from the cracking and screeching of falling timber all around.

I made the mistake of opening my eyes for just a second, and that was all I needed. I slammed them shut again and vowed that I would never repeat what I saw... yeah _right!_

To say it was shocking, even out right _terrifying_ didn't even come close. I'm not sure what it was I'd actually seen, glowing, dancing and swirling around the outside of our circle, like something from Raiders of the Lost Ark, but with more teeth than a T-Rex, about five times the size, ten times as grumpy, and it certainly wasn't something I ever wanted to see again.

"Dean, ya idgit! You just called to it!" Bobby screamed out. "Now hold still and keep your damned fool eyes shut!"

I wasn't going to disobey the man a second time.

A loud _whoomph, _followed by what felt like all the air being sucked out of the world, had me reeling.

You know that feeling when you take a hump-back bridge too fast? And your gut takes a header up your gullet and tries to eject your last meal? Multiply that by a thousand, add a few more g-force, and you come pretty close to describing it.

Quite the rush, actually.

I remember it gave me the sense of being _displaced_. Like I'd been cut out of space and time by a huge pair of scissors, - or perhaps garden shears would be more likely – and then glued right back in somewhere else.

"Keep your mind on Sam!" I heard Pastor Jim yell this time.

Gale force winds whipped around us, howling furiously like a wounded animal, and then with a suddenness that was easily as breathtaking as the gale itself, we were plunged into complete silence.

A cloying, suffocating silence that bugged and disturbed me.

It went on for so long, galaxies could have formed and died.

The black behind my eyes was getting boring as I waited and waited for Bobby to tell us the spell was finished.

"Bobby?"

"Hush! S'not over yet."

That sure told me. So I waited...

...and waited...

... and waited…

Didn't realize I was almost falling asleep until another _whoomph _and another hump-back bridge ride later had me once again nearly losing my dinner. The winds roared around in protest, trying to knock me over, and then it was gone.

"Ok," I heard Bobby say. "You can open your eyes… _again_."

I just knew that last comment was directed my way, and I opened one peeper to find a very angry sorcerer/junk yard owner glaring right at me.

"Uh," I grinned disarmingly, in hopes that he wouldn't turn me into a Chihuahua or something. "Sorry dude. It was a reflex, ya know? Kinda like, 'don't touch the fire', but you touch the fire anyway…"

"Yeah," he growled, reached out and clipped me upside the head. "That kinda works for a _three _year old, maybe! But you just fell short of having ya _balls_ ripped off!"

Someone cleared their throat, and Sire spoke up, sounding amused. "Mentally, that age estimate is sometimes not far wrong."

I was about to indignantly refute Sire's claim when Pastor Jim stepped in between us and pushed Bobby back a few paces.

"Let's argue about it later, yes?" The priest raised an eyebrow and swivelled his head from Bobby to me. "Now that we're here, I think we should hide up and wait for Sam."

Reality caught up at last, and I spun around, my eyes widening with disbelief.

So _this_ was Black Mountain.

It wasn't what I expected. I'd imagined just lumps of rock here and there marking a few forlorn graves, but nothing quite like this.

For a start, the lumps of rock were, in a few cases, as big as some of the markers at Stonehenge. There were _trees_, and _bushes,_ unlike the stark, bare landscape of my imagination. And it seemed to go on for miles. Large black rocks stretched away into the night, and wherever Sammy decided to show up, finding him wasn't gonna be easy.

But I figured we had some time... after all, we'd beaten him here, right?

Or so I thought until, suddenly, I caught wind of him.

_Sammy? Sammy, where are you?_

I began to panic when there was no answer.

_SAM!_

It was one of my worst nightmares come to life. Trapped in a dark maze, separated from Sammy and unable to find him, not knowing if he was safe, or dea...

And then finally, _thankfully, _I heard him.

_Dean… leave… now…_

My heart thudded loudly in my chest. He sounded hurt, in pain, his thoughts weak and torn.

_Forget it, kid, now where the hell are ya?_

_No! Listen to me! Get out, now!_

Damn, stubborn little…

_No. __**You **__listen to me! I'm not leaving, couldn't if we wanted to. We're gonna fight this thing together._

Silence.

_Sam?_

Nothing, not even a mild breeze made a sound throughout the graveyard.

"Dammit!" I swore and spun round again, trying to catch a glimpse of Sam amongst the rocks. When that didn't work, I took a long hard sniff through my nose.

Sam's blood was faint, telling me that whilst he was injured, so far it wasn't serious. But I'd picked up his scent.

He hadn't even attempted to hide himself from us, probably because he never expected us to get here before anything happened. In the past, when he wanted to hide up, the kid was a master at back tracking, leaving false trails and messing up our sense of smell to buy time. But, not so tonight.

I started wondering how he got here so damn fast in the first place, and was determined to make sure he explained it all. It should've been a two day ride away at least, so with Bobby's relocation spell, we should have been here first.

So what the hell happened?

The two humans, with Sire and Andy in tow, followed me through the grave markers, weapons at the ready. We didn't know what to expect, so by silent, mutual agreement, decided to expect _anything._

But we still weren't prepared for it...

The first piece of trouble came in the form of a wart ridden young woman, with a hooked nose, dressed in a black robe and a tall black pointed hat. Yeah, the cliché was complete 'cos there was even a black cat curled round her damn broomstick.

I raised my eyes to the heavens for a moment, silently begging for strength.

"Let me guess," I drawled, voice loaded with my usual sarcasm. "Witch, by any chance?"

She smiled, teeth stained brown by something nasty, mouth lined with black lipstick.

A _Goth_ witch?

Great. She must've been some damn wannabe, who'd taken fairy tales a little _too _seriously.

(and black lipstick? Really? Who still finds that a turn on these days?)

"_Possessed _Witch," she cackled and her eyes rolled black – huh, figured.

A black nail-polished hand shot out. I felt myself lifted up, my back slammed into something hard and unyielding.

Hmm. Hard and unyielding? In a graveyard? Wonder what that could be...

Bitch didn't get another chance to attack, because Tobius blasted her with rock salt and Pastor Jim reeled off the exorcism before she could regain her footing.

Body jerking and mouth cracked wide open, black vapour soon streamed up into the dark skies above. The unfortunate Wiccan slumped to the ground, probably already too far beyond our help.

_Hmm. _Sire mused. _I have the distinct feeling we just smoked the head of the welcoming committee. _He gently nudged her with a toe. _It's a rare sight these days, finding a wiccan dressed in such a manner. Someone must be laughing at us..._

Before we could even draw breath, out from the stones rushed a barraged of wiccans on the attack, but the iron rounds put them down. Judging by the grey shadows streaming out, ruined faces and wide staring, sightless eyes, these poor bastards were now free, in every way possible. These were the frontline scouts, wiccans possessed by ghosts sent to size us up, with a _demon_ possessed witch as their leader.

Like lambs to the slaughter.

We were all a little shocked that it happened so quickly, but there was no point in looking a gift horse in the mouth.

"There's gonna be more of these the closer we get," Jim whispered. "But the ghosts are done... probably just demon wicca suits now, more powerful, so it's gonna get worse. Be on your guard."

"Closer we get to what?" I whispered back.

"Wherever they want us," came the less than comforting reply from Bobby Singer.

Andy shifted and grunted. His position as tail-end Charlie was an ideal one for a large and ferocious bear, and he certainly proved his worth when a black-eyed bastard leapt out from behind another gravestone and tried its evil mojo on Sire. Before it could do any damage, Andy picked the struggling demon up in one large meaty paw and glared at it. The other paw reached down to the bandolier, pulled loose a salt seller, and jammed the end of it in the demon's mouth.

Muffled screaming, and some incensed and violent hard-assed bear later, the demon lay face up in its meat suit panting and trying to resist the exorcism. It soon succumbed, however, and we all watched this time as a black cloud disappeared upwards.

Again, we all pondered at the speed this was progressing.

"Maybe these are so low level that…" I began, but was interrupted.

"It's not you doing that… it's me," a shaky, familiar voice sounded from behind, and when I turned, Sam stood there panting, leaning against a rock, holding his bloodied left arm protectively to his side. "The salt, yeah, but the ritual? Only works if you can pin them down in one place. And that can't happen… not _here._"

_Sammy…_ I strode over and hauled the kid into my arms, closed my eyes and breathed in his scent for a minute, then pulled back and gripped his shoulders. _You're hurt!_

_Not serious. _Sam shook his head, wearily. _Already healing._

His body was held up by sheer adrenaline and shaking like a leaf. Felt like he was gonna collapse any second. _What the hell were you thinking? Coulda got yaself killed!_

Sam lifted his head and glared at me. _I was thinking about saving my family! You shouldn't be here. Only I can do this, and I will._ He stepped back and away. _Now leave._

_No fucking way! _I snarled and closed the gap.

_Dean…_

"Show us what you can do, Sam," Sire suddenly spoke up, eyes glowing with suspicion.

Sam looked a little shifty. "Uh…"

"You learned a few new skills out here, didn't you?" Tobius tilted his head to the side, voice just a little accusing, but also somewhat proud.

That sure sounded like…

"Sam, tell me you didn't…" I breathed out.

He shook his head, to my relief. "No. _He_ keeps appearing, tempting me, but I won't take his blood, Dean. I _swear_ I won't."

"This," Tobius swept a hand around, in a grand gesture encompassing the graveyard, "is a playground, yes?"

Sam bit his lip and nodded. "Yes. Viewed from above, it's in the shape of the eye of Solomon, a Devil's trap. But demons can come and go…"

"…because it's broken," I finished and hung my head in understanding. "All these gravestones mark the devils trap but it's incomplete. Someone vandalized it?"

Sam nodded, eyes weary but determined. "Azazel lied to us... and the Wiccans. Disguised himself as one of their gods. It wasn't their fault. They were drawn here just to break it under false pretences. Then, once the demons got what they wanted, they took them over. The spirit possessions were just his idea of fun."

"Figures!" It was all I could do not roar with frustration. The yellow eyed bastard probably got off on using violent spirits to terrorize and torture the wiccans to the very brink of insanity.

Pastor Jim remained silent, though I could see him silently offering up a prayer for the lost Wiccans. He ain't the fire and brimstone type, in spite of his beliefs, and no doubt he begged for their very souls.

When Bobby spoke he sounded vexed to say the least. "So, you can play in this place like a lab rat in a maze, but the demons can also come after you without being trapped here?"

"Yeah," Sam answered on a tired sigh. "That's about it."

Tobius stepped closer, eyes narrowed. "What were you saying about those exorcisms? About it not working, that it was _you…?_"

Sam closed his eyes for a long, long moment. When he opened them again, he finally answered Sire's question. "It's one of my new skills. I can exorcise demon's… with my mind. That's why they're staying away right now, 'cos they're scared of me."

Now, I ain't exactly a scholar, as you guys know, but I ain't short in the ol'grey matter department either. Something like that must have taken a while to perfect.

"Sammy, how long you been here… in this _playground?_"

Another nervous pause and Sam stared at me with wide pleading eyes.

"Sam!" I was about ready to shake the answer out if him.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he licked his lips. "Ever since I found a way to transport myself here, around…" he glanced at his Rolex, "… six hours ago. That was a few hours after I hit the road."

Holy shit!

_**Author's notes:**_

_**Holy shit, indeed.**_

_**Be prepared for a major battle coming up next chapter!**_

_**Now, let's see those reviews...**_

_**Cheers everyone.**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 20**

_**Now…**_

**Contrary to his wishes in the last entry, Sam is back in human form, sitting in front of the fire and leaning against Dean. **

**Tobius sits silently nearby, hands at the back of his head. One gets the feeling from his casual countenance that he is merely there to listen, not interfere. **

**Sam no longer wears the shades, so his human eyes shine silver in the firelight. It's a little strange looking, but not unpleasant.**

"**I know you still hate that I ran off, but I had to Dean," he whispers, sadly. "I didn't want to leave you, but I didn't have a choice. Azazel got so mad when Andy was turned, I was scared he would carry out his threat and kill everyone I love. I just couldn't risk it."**

**Dean heaves a sigh, eyes bright and moist with tears. "I know. I mean, I get it, but…" he rubs at the bridge of his nose, as though overwhelmed. "It was **_**too**_** great a risk. We almost lost you, Sammy!"**

**They both sit there in deep thought, and the fire crackles playfully among the logs. Every now and then, a spark flies up, dances on the night time breeze for a second or two, then disappears skywards. **

"**Nah," Sam suddenly decides. "You wouldn't have lost me. Take a lot more than that to get rid of your pain-in-the-ass little **_**brotherson**_**."**

**Dean huffs out a gentle laugh. "Maybe. But… just don't do it again." He pauses before adding, deadpan: "Ya little shit."**

**Sam snorts with laughter.**

_**Then…**_

So, his list of special skills currently stood at TK, visions, exorcisms, and, now, relocation. And that last one? When Sam explained how he figured it out, he made it sound all so damn easy, like a walk in the park.

"Yeah, I just thought about it for a while, and then realized all I had to do was _change_ the way I used my TK. It's so _simple _it's embarrassing…" and babbled on about some guy called Einstein, who had a theory about his relatives, and Newton, who apparently at some stage had an apple land on his head, which must have scrambled his brains a little 'cos the guy just made no sense after that.

(After all, how can you_ invent_ gravity? It just _exists _right?)

So, yeah, _simple_.

Just not so much to me, and even Sire looked somewhat perplexed by it all, but…

Well.

Let's just say, after everything he went through to get us here? No wonder Bobby was looking a little pissed.

"Looks like Sammy's mojo trumps your magic ace, Bobby." I grinned broadly in the face of his ire. "Gettin' a little rusty there, ol'man?"

Bobby glared back at me. "Just you watch your tongue, boy!" he growled. "One wave of my hand and you'll be hopping around on lily pads for the next month!"

I gulped, the smile dropped from my face like a heavy stone, and I steadfastly ignored the soft sniggering from the others. Sometimes I forget just what the guy's capable off.

We crept on through the graveyard, glancing at various markers and keeping an ear out for trouble, though we didn't really need to bother. Trouble was sure to find us sooner or later.

A large ugly old tree loomed up ahead. Tall and gnarled with twisting tangled limbs, it could've been several hundred years old, and if it could speak, telling all it had seen throughout its' life?

I probably would've been bored to tears.

Sam and Pastor Jim, however, could always be counted upon. They walked round it several times, as though it held some significance.

"This is new," Sam glanced at me, obviously worried. "I mean, I haven't been this far into the cemetery 'til now.".

"Hmm," said the priest, thoughtfully. "Take a look at that branch, the one separate from all the others?"

Sam squinted up. "Huh. Been pruned especially. And it's got a groove worn half way along, like…" he turned to Jim. "Like it was used as a gallows. This is a hangman's tree, right?"

I shrugged when the Pastor nodded.

"I assume most if not all of its victims are buried here?" I asked.

"Most likely in pieces," Sire pointed out. "The murderers in particular were often hung, drawn and quartered, sometimes buried closest to the tree so the roots would grow around them over the years, making sure their souls can never rise again."

"So this is like... the Tree of the Dead, or somethin'?" I mused out loud, then thought about it for a second. "That's pretty gross."

Andy puffed out a sigh and rubbed his large furry head against a gravestone.

_You ok there?_ I inquired, happy for the change of subject.

The werebear groaned in appreciation. _Yeah. Had an itch between my ears… oh man! This is… ouch! Damn! It won't let up… what the hell?_

_Andy, what's wrong? _Sam began shifting from foot to foot, anxiously. But when he reached up with a shaking hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, I knew something was wrong.

_Andy? Are you feeling what I'm feeling? _Sam asked, still rubbing his head.

_Yeah. Huh. S'weird. Like being pulled at by a magn… aagghhhh!_

Andy didn't get a chance to finish his sentence because he was soaring through the air and colliding head first with a grave marker. He sat up and shook his head, eyes dazed and scared.

_Wha…?_

A sound like stone scraping on stone way off to our right had him scrambling up and lumbering over to us.

Like the best trained continuity drill squad, we closed ranks in a circle around Sam, facing outwards, weapons at the ready. Sam sank to his knees, fingers tips now massaging his temples and eyes screwed tightly shut.

_Sammy? _I kept my gaze ahead, sweeping the ground for trouble, occasionally looking back at him over my shoulder. _What's goin' on? What are you doing?_

He remained silent for so long my anxiety levels, already pounding their way upwards, took a giant leap.

_Sam! Answer me!_

I risked another quick glance over my shoulder, dreading what I might see, but to my relief he was standing back up at full height, eyes glowing fiercely.

_I'm ok. Just running a scan of the area. We're surrounded, by the way._

I heard Sire muttering in the background, presumably translating our thought projections for the sake of Bobby and the Pastor. But when Sam delivered the bad news, Tobius paused for just an instant then relayed it onwards.

_Surrounded by what? _I asked,

_Take your pick. Witches, demons, Jake…_

_Shit!_

_Yeah. Kinda thought you'd say that._

_How many?_

Sam paused then answered. _You want this sugar coated?_

_Sugar coating always works for me._

_Hundreds._

Weapon slightly lowered, I turned my upper body to fix him with a glare.

_**That's **your idea of sugar coating?_

Sam just shrugged. _Ok. Try this: how long's a piece of string?_

_Huh. That many? Really?_

_Really._

I puffed out my cheeks. _Our kind of odds._

Sam smiled and nodded. _Yeah._

Sire's hand gripped my shoulder. "Remember what I told you before you met the Home pack. You and Sam come first.

"Father…"

"I mean it!" Tobius growled, suddenly shoving his face right into mine. "When the shit hits the fan, we'll punch a hole in their defences and you'll get yourselves as far away as possible. Leave this to us, if you can. Go to the Home pack. Lucas and Victoria will take care of you both and keep you safe."

I had a lot to say about that, but not nearly as much as Sam. The kid stalked towards us, mouth set in a grim line and fists clenched at his sides.

"No." Sam's voice was deceptively calm, as though his body was absorbing all the frustration and anger, leaving the mind free to handle all the heavy emotional stuff. "I can't keep running."

He shot me a look tinged with both determination and regret. "_We_ can't keep running from this. It must end tonight. I won't live my life in hiding. This…" Sam turned in a circle, hands out as though encompassing the entire world, until he faced us again, eyes now hard but voice still soft. "_This_ is what we _do_. We've hunted the shadows all our lives, and now the shadows are hunting us. We stand and fight. There are no options left."

The steadily growing lump in my throat damn near blocked my wind pipe by the time he finished his little speech. Everyone present was stunned into silence and stood there, just staring at their shoes. No one was going to deny it. Sam was right. We couldn't go on like this, jumping through Azazel's hoops and running into Jake, only to be force-fed our own asses.

Jake had to go. He was too dangerous to be left in the game, for humans, vampires and weres alike. Big question was: could we take him down?

And the answer to that was so simple and, at the same time, oh so complicated:

If we had to, we'd die trying.

But, at that point, I'd been sure.

_I_ would take him on.

I swallowed with difficulty. "Ok then. Let's do this."

The circle broke temporarily to allow to Sam to take his place between Sire and me. Tobius blinked a few times, then grasped the nape of Sam's neck and nodded, squeezing gently. He cast a shaky smile my way, and I knew what he was saying without hearing the words.

_I've always been proud of you both, but never more so than tonight._

"Well," Bobby groused. "Maybe I can turn a few of 'em into mice, or somethin', but I've a feeling they'll be plenty powerful."

In other words, too much for him.

"We'll just have to do the best we can," Pastor Jim replied, quietly.

I only just caught the sad grin the two men shared before they turned back to their task.

Andy just snorted and tossed his head, eyes narrowed with anger.

Another scraping noise and we all felt a sudden intense _wave_ trying to yank us off our feet, but something was holding us in place, protecting and buffering at the same time.

I knew who it was, could see him out the corner of my eye.

Sam was at work, one hand out stretched, head slightly lowered. His eyes were glowing so powerfully it almost hurt to look at him, and the bands around his irises were thick and dense. Seeing him like this gave my faltering faith a good solid kick up the ass. Sammy didn't need weapons. At least, not like the ones the rest of us carried.

He was a weapon in his own right.

I almost _pitied_ Jake Tally right then.

We heard a rustling from around thirty, may be forty meters away, faint at first but growing louder. As we squinted into the gloom it was possible to make out moving shapes, getting closer, the shadows slowly peeling away to reveal the collective faces of our enemy.

They stood, silent and grinning. Around twenty upfront and God knew how many lining up behind. As Sam told us, had to be hundreds of possessed Wiccans here, all with powers supercharged by their demonic hitchhikers.

"Don't make a move," Tobius barked out. "Let them come to us."

Another wave swept forward, but faded out around ten meters away with a screech like a banshee.

Sam was effortlessly shielding us, but for how long? Surely the demons would get the message soon and try some other tactic…

Typical.

Just as I was thinking it, the fireballs started, and Sam wasn't fast enough to readjust his shield. Andy yelped in pain as the fur on his left leg caught fire. He hopped around cursing on the inside and roaring on the outside.

_Sonofafuckingcocksuckingwhore!_

Never would have guessed he knew language that colourful. Pastor Jim struggled out of his coat and tried to wrap it around the flailing bear's leg.

"For goodness sake, child! Stand still!"

Good job he couldn't hear what _we_ heard. Even Tobius looked a little surprised, and nothing ever seems to shock _him_.

Fireballs were suddenly zipping all round and over us, we ducked and dodged as best we could without actually giving ground, but pretty soon we were gonna have to make a move of our own.

One fireball, bigger and brighter than the rest zoomed up into the night sky like a shooting star, hovered there for a moment, then dived abruptly, aiming for a completely clueless Sam who was still struggling to power up our shields.

I barrelled into the kid, knocking him to the ground. Sam stared up at me, eyes widening with fear.

"Dean!"

I turned my head, and saw the fireball heading straight for me, could feel the scorching heat as it plummeted down.

Sam must've got his mojo working again 'cos in the split second before it was supposed to hit, the fireball seemed to _bounce_ on an invisible trampoline and shot off at right angles. Moments later came the sound of yelling and screaming, and we glanced over towards the enemy lines to be greeted with the sight of several demon-possessed witches up in flames. Some were already on the ground and unmoving, but others were still choking out great clouds of black vapour, the demons desperate to escape their burning meat suits.

The smell of charred human flesh and caramelized blood permeated the air, tweaked the nose of our inner wolf, and ignited hunger in our bellies.

Sam and I grinned at each other as I helped him to his feet, and Tobius stood beside us.

"Nice work, lads," Sire's eyes glowed, body tense with excitement and the battle to come. "Now," he nodded towards the enemy, already regrouping after Sam's returning volley. "Looks like we haven't quite annoyed them enough."

It was his way of saying that though we were surrounded, the battle still had some ground to forge.

Jim and Bobby, now that Andy was no longer en flambé, pulled the grumbling bear back to our circle.

"Right," Tobius glanced up at the sky, just as more fireballs were launched upwards, trajectory clear cut when they reached their zenith and dropped, bearing down on us. "Sam, can you hold them off for long, pup?"

Sam nodded grimly. "Yep. They make it too easy."

Tobius nodded, urgently. "Then we will follow. Just tell us what you need."

Sam stood still, head raised, and I could almost make out a faint glow in the air above our heads, like a tightly stretched net.

We didn't need much telling, as it turned out.

The fireballs bounced off harmlessly, as did the next volley, and smashed more holes in the enemy front lines. Others were lined up to take the place of their downed and injured, however, but low level demons are pretty stupid and the fireballs kept on coming.

"Right! Everyone tighten the circle around Sam. The demons may try to advance on him once they realize what he can do. We can't allow them to get that close." Tobius checked his weapon once more. "Iron rounds. Single, timed head or heart shots, gentlemen. We must spare the ammunition so make each one count. Pick a target and take it down."

As a knight in the midst of battle, he got down on one knee, and we all followed suit.

"Stand to ready!"

There were several clunks and clicks as weapons were primed, cocked and safety catches were checked.

"Take _aim!_" Tobius voice grew louder and more regimented with each syllable and I felt a thrill of excitement run down my spine.

This is what it's like to hunt alongside Tobius Le Salle, but now, on the battle field, with no idea who would be the victor or even if we'd survive, it was twice the rush.

We might go down, but not without a fight.

One eye closed, my target chosen – a guy with jet black hair to match his eyes – I held my breath, finger on the trigger. The screams of pain as Sam diverted more fireballs away from us faded into the background, and my vision tunnelled.

"_Fire!_"

Rounds left barrels with a single perfect loud retort, and less than a second later a flock of demons fell, twitching and streaming black smoke from their hosts' mouths.

"_Stand to ready!" _Tobius roared again, barely giving us time to rejoice in our triumph.

"_Take aim!"_

One moment that I will always remember:

A fireball zoomed in on Tobius on a horizontal arch but he didn't even flinch, just stared down the barrel of his weapon, eyes hard and narrowed.

It deflected off Sam's shield and whooshed straight back at its owner, a now majorly pissed off looking demon whose mouth dropped open in shock, right before the fireball slammed into it, knocking it and several others down in a frenzy of flames.

Without missing a beat, Tobius yelled: "_Fire!"_

More demons smoked out, leaving their now panicking colleagues to face the music.

It was deafening, the air filled with the roar and whoosh of fireballs, screaming demons and gunshots.

Volley after volley took out many more of the enemy, until Bobby announced that he was out of ammunition, quickly followed by Pastor Jim.

Tobius swept up his backpack and threw it to them.

"Change to salt rounds," he yelled back. "There's plenty in there. It should slow them down, with a bit of luck."

I had already swapped over and watched with sick satisfaction as another demon took a blast of rock salt to the face. It gurgled and wailed, spitting out the offending salt, but wasted no more time dallying with me. Wriggling free of its meat suit, the sooty black waves headed up and out.

I got the feeling these guys weren't really trying all that hard, abandoning their host at the slightest sting, but then as low level demons maybe they didn't have all that much to work with.

_Dean. He's here…_ Sam called out to me. _Azazel._

Talk about bad timing

At once, the demonic frontline stopped firing at us and fell still and silent, black eyes gleaming like beetles in the firelight. There were small fires here and there, where a patch of grass had gone up, or a bush had ignited. Funny how that ugly assed tree was still untouched, not a mark on it.

Occasionally, we could hear the shift and shuffle as one or two at the back tried to see over the shoulders of their colleagues.

"Hold your fire!" ordered Tobius, one hand raised and lowered his voice to an almost whisper. "Let's see what they'll do next."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Sam whispered back. "They're waiting for something. An order…" he shook his head and snarled angrily. "_His _order!"

Before we could stop him, Sam strode out of our protective circle, came to a halt and stared round at the demon hoards.

_Sammy, what the hell are you doing? _I yelped, watching as he raised both hands, feet shoulder width apart, and blood _poured_ from his nose.

He didn't answer me, didn't need to.

We could all see for ourselves what he was doing by now.

The several hundred wiccans left were suddenly writhing and choking on their demonic parasites, and the air filled with dense black clouds. With a loud collective death rattle, every single suit slumped, and the ground and surrounding gravestones were littered with human bodies as far as the eye could see.

In the silence that followed, someone started clapping, slowly and methodically. It wasn't meant to compliment, just the opposite. It was dripping with sarcasm, and we all looked at each other, apprehensively.

"This can't be good," I muttered out loud.

Footsteps grew closer until they stopped just behind the fallen bodies.

It wasn't Azazel.

"Nice work, Sam," Jake grinned, evilly. "You've really stepped up. Now, let's see what else you can do…"

He waved an arm, sending Sam flying backwards into grave marker. His back hit the stone wrenching a groan from his mouth, eyes rolling dazedly in their sockets.

"Sammy?" I tried to reach him, but was soon violently fused to my own rock and shaking the fuzz from my aching head. A series of small, familiar gasps and thumps followed, and I looked around through pained eyes to find we'd _all _been had, Tobius included. Unfortunately, from what I could gather, the impact had rendered Jim and Bobby unconscious. Andy just hung there in a daze – he wasn't gonna be using his circle of terror any time soon, poor kid.

Jake laughed; a cruel, humourless sound that echoed off the gravestones.

"C'mon, Sam," Jake almost pouted. "I know you can do better than that…"

He broke off when a large rock was wrenched out of the ground and flung at him, knocking the guy down.

Sam rolled to his feet and glared at the fallen ex-soldier. His eyes were clear again, the knock to the head having worn off instantly.

"Sure I can, and so much more…"

His hand formed a fist and punched the air. Jake grunted in pain and fell back down again, clutching his gut.

"Wanna see what else?" Sam struck the air again and smiled when his opponent jerked and gasped for air. He'd taken a hit to the solar plexus and another to the groin. Apparently, Sam fights dirty when he's pissed.

_Attaboy._

I struggled against the invisible bonds but couldn't get free.

_Take it easy, _Sam whispered. _You'll only hurt yourself. He's powerful and won't let you go until he's unconscious or dead. _He drew himself up to his full height. _I'd rather it be the former option, but that all depends on him…_

Jake lashed out with a blast wave that had Sam stumbling back a few feet, but he quickly recovered with a blast of his own. Jake, still on the ground and presumably still hurting from the punch to the family jewels, groaned, rolled and hid behind a huge gravestone.

Sam countered the move with a flick of his wrist, and the rock gave out a sharp crack before lifting up, hovering for a few seconds above Jake's head, then plummeting down.

Jake nearly managed to scramble free but the heavy stone caught him on the shoulder. Any normal person would have suffered a broken shoulder at the very least, a crushed upper torso at worst, but Jake just slammed the injured appendage up against another rock, screamed in agony as he reset the bone and rolled his head a little, as though getting comfortable again.

Sam was heaving in great breaths, more blood trickling from his nose. Remembering the digger in Bobby's salvage yard, and what it cost him to try and move it, I figured that must've taken one hell of an effort.

"Sam?" I called out, voice hoarsely. "You ok?"

"I'll live," was Sam's only answer, succinct and to the point.

I took the hint and shut the hell up. He needed to concentrate. There was nothing any of us could do for him right now. This was all on Sam's shoulders, and my heart pounded with fear for his safety.

Jake slowly turned around, his gaze on Sam, critical and assessing.

"My, my. Doggy sure has learned some new Jedi mind tricks," he drawled.

Sam showed his usual appreciation for that level of sarcasm by sending the bastard flying across several graves, making good and sure to smash Jake's head into each and every rock in his path.

I hoped it would work, knocking him out and setting us free, but Jake just staggered unsteadily to his feet with that ever annoying grin.

_Shit! This guy can really take some punishment. _I observed, trying not to panic.

_Indeed! _Tobius breathed out. He obviously hadn't paid attention to Sam's advice and was still struggling to free himself. _And I'm sure Azazel is enjoying the show._

_You really think he's here? _I asked, frowning.

_Not only do I think he's here, _Tobius snorted, indignantly,_ but I also believe that he orchestrated this entire farce._

I nodded, sourly. _So the demons double crossed us after all. What a shocker._

_Don't take it to heart,_ Sire offered, just as he made one last bid for freedom, and slumped against his rock in defeat. _To be honest, I'm not sure a different decision would have made much of a difference to the outcome. I think we'd still have ended up here._

I winced when Sam was suddenly lifted up and slam-dunked across a flat grave marker.

He cried out in pain and rolled off, breathing heavily and shaking his head.

_Sam…_

_I'm ok. Just need a sec…_

Jake wasn't going to give him that second, and swiped Sam backwards. The kid's head bounced harshly against the rock, and again, and again until I felt sure Sam's brains were gonna be mush.

Blood running into his eyes and panting through the pain, Sam once again clambered to his feet. His mouth twisted in rage, and I just knew what was coming couldn't be good. He shoved his left hand palm outwards, and Jake gasped, eyes bulging wide.

Sam's shaking fingers curled in and twisted, his head tilting to the side.

It was the first real fear Jake had revealed since the show down began. He clawed at his throat, mouth gaping open, choking, and sinking to his knees.

Sam breathed heavily through his bloodied nose. I could see the indecision on his face. He didn't want to kill Jake, that much was obvious, but he had little choice. Just when I thought he'd come to the same conclusion, he relaxed his grip and Jake fell forward onto the grass, rubbing his neck and greedily sucking in air.

"I never wanted any of this," Sam shook his head, sadly. "To become a duke of hell, hold a seat of power… no, man. That's not for me. I just wanted to be left alone with my pack, but you just couldn't resist, huh?"

Jake sneered. "Can't be the best without proof," he grimaced and stood up, eyes dark and filled with a terrible omen of what was to come. "And killing you? Azazel's little _pet?_ That's all the proof he needs that _I_ am better than you, that only _I_ am worthy. That seat will be mine."

Jake launched himself at Sam, bringing them both down in a jumble of limbs.

It was fast, hard and bloody, and all I could see was a blur of fists and hear flesh smacking on flesh. From what I could make out, Sam performed a partial change, claws lengthening, slashing and gouging great chunks out of Jake's flesh.

Jake roared in pain and retaliated by pushing upwards and forcing Sam away to a safe distance.

They stood, squared off, but Sam... only _Sam._.. my compassionate son... would offer a way out:

"It's all yours," Sam replied, sounding tired and broken. "If it means that much to you. I won't fight you any longer, 'cos it's just not worth it." His eyes gleamed with sadness. "Don't you think we've all been through enough?"

That seemed to cause Jake some momentary confusion, and he appeared to back down.

But the instant Sam turned his back, I knew it was a mistake.

Jake unsheathed a gleaming silver short sword – _the _sword - from a cloth wrapped scabbard inside his jacket pocket, and lunged.

"Sammy, look out!"

Sam swung round just in time to greet the sword coming the other way.

"Noooooo!" I went wild, straining and gasping against my rock.

"Oh my God!" I heard Tobius cry out in anguish.

The sword swung upwards and plunged into Sam's sternum, his body jerking and shuddering, impaled on the blade. He just hung there, staring hopelessly into Jake's eyes, blood dripping from his mouth.

I was frozen, numb, even, for a few long moments, until I saw Jake whisper something to Sam.

I read his lips.

'_I win'_

_**Author's notes.**_

_**So here it is, **_

_**Sammy... poor baby...**_

_**Sorry I haven't done the review replies, but life turned hectic on me.**_

_**I thought you'd rather the epic battle chapter instead!**_

**_Also note that by attempting to explain the origins of Jake's blade, I'm doing what Kripke hasn't so far: Ruby's knife was never fully exposed._**

**_It might be a bullshit story line for it, but at least I have one! That's more than he can say at this stage._**

_**Cheers my loves.**_

_**ST xxx**_


	21. Chapter 21

**Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 21**

_**Now…**_

**Sam's head is resting on Dean's shoulder but he's awake, silver eyes glinting in the light of the campfire. Tobius is sitting by quietly, poking at the fire with a stick.**

**The atmosphere is tense and awkward, as though the small pack were only now able to digest all that had happened.**

**Dean glances at the camera. "That was essentially it, the injury to beat all injuries," he hangs his head and shudders. "It was bad, really, **_**really **_**bad…"**

_**Then…**_

'_I win'_

That was it for me. Bulging muscles rippled and my clothes tore apart, more or less just falling away.

Jake gave the blade a gleeful twist and forced it upwards. Sam jerked violently again, blood free falling from his mouth and choking him.

When his eyes slid shut, I howled madly, homing in on Jake and _somehow _I was breaking free of his hold over me.

Jake grinned and callously dropped Sam to the ground, stood back and raised the sword.

The good news? If the source of silver was removed quickly enough, Sam would be ok. So Jake obviously intended to have a little more fun at our expense.

"Come and get me, _wolfman._"

I was only too eager to oblige. Growling and circling the guy, deep down I knew this was a bad time to be fighting him. I wasn't thinking straight, Sam needed me…

But behind Jake, Sam's eyes were open again, tired and blood shot, the pupils bearing a sheen of silver.

That _wasn't_ good news. What the hell happened? Why wasn't he healing? Why were his eyes clouding over…?

Then I saw the reason for Jake's infernal smugness: the broken edge of Jake's precious sword. A small piece, maybe a couple of inches long, had snapped off, probably inside of Sam.

_No! Sire…_

I glanced over to where everyone else was still pinned helplessly to their rocks. Tobius was watching in despair.

_I know. Just get that damn sword away from Jake and finish the bastard off once and for all so we can help Sam!_

That was going to be easier said than done.

_Dean…_ Sam was lying on his side, squinting at me through half closed, silver tinted eyes.

_Just take it easy, kiddo. You'll be fine. Just don't move… Sammy I __**said**__ don't __**move **__for fuck sake!_

Sam pulled himself up, gritting his teeth in agony but kept his movements quiet.

Once he was swaying on his feet, clutching at his chest, Sam nodded.

I hated this, but I guessed what he was up to.

I growled softly, and lunged at Jake. The guy dodged nicely, and swung the short sword at me. Quickly lifting my front paws and balancing on my hind quarters, the deadly blade just missed my gut. It turned the manoeuvre into another lunge then changed direction at the last second, much to Jake's annoyed surprise.

"Nice move," he murmured, in grudging admiration, whirling the sword effortlessly.

I answered by hunkering down into a crouch, then sprang forward, paws aiming for Jake's chest. In that same moment, the sword flew backwards out of Jake's loosened grip and straight into Sam's, who didn't hesitate, and thrust the blade deep into Jake's back just over his heart.

Another swift thrust and Jake collapse in a gurgle of blood. The death throes didn't last longer than it took for Sam to drop the sword and fall to his knees, gasping for breath, head lolling on his neck. After a fast and painful change, I caught him up in my arms and tilted his head back to check his eyes.

They were completely blank, the entire pupil silvered out and even covering the black bands around the irises.

_Sammy, can you hear me?_

Nothing. Sam was beyond communicating by now.

Tobius sprang free first, and sprinted over to us.

I had no idea what Bobby, Pastor Jim and Andy were doing, and no offence to them but I sure didn't care.

_Sam's dying, Sire. I can't reach him._

Tobius didn't say a word, just yanked the sword out of Jake's lifeless body and quickly studied it, eyes roving over the broken part of the blade. He nodded to himself.

"Right," he said, voice curt and to the point. "You're not going to like what I'm about to do, but…"

Sire suddenly whirled round, sword raised. "What do _you_ want? Or do I even need to guess?"

Yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness behind us, and Azazel's mouth twisted in a weird evil parody of friendship.

"_You know I can still help Sam," _he said, softly, and held out a strange looking horn handled knife with a jagged blade. _"It's not too late."_

He drew the blade across his wrist, allowing blood to well up and drip down his arm. The demon's skin crackled with electricity along the path of the knife, and I understood this was yet another blade forged with a special purpose, probably made in the same manner as Jake's sword.

"_It'll save him," _Yellow Eyes coaxed, almost gently.

Oh yeah. Azazel was still after Sam, alright.

Truth be told, I was more than tempted, especially when Sam coughed weakly and blood spilled over his chin, giving his shirt another soaking.

Azazel stared down at me, smiling, offering Sam's salvation in the form of a torn and bloodied wrist, offering Sam's very_ life._

Despair and heartbreak was about to force my hand. I was going to make a very stupid, and I mean _dumbfuckstupid,_ decision.

"Sire," I began, sounding a little rough. My throat was raw from fighting back the tears. "May be we should…"

"No!" Tobius snapped out, eyes narrowed with contempt at the demon. "You've already over played your hand once, Azazel. We just didn't see it for what it was at the time. But you're making it so damn obvious now."

The demon shrugged as if he could care less. Which was about right. What _did_ he care? He had us exactly where he wanted us, and knew it.

Except...

"You see, my theory is this," Sire continued, watching the demon's face carefully. "If Sam drinks demon blood, not only will he be fair game for you, but he'll also lose his werewolf status and revert back to human."

I truly hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. However, Sam was still _dying…_

"I can always turn him again," I begged him, desperately. "Sire, _please…"_

"I don't think so, Dean," he replied, not taking his eyes off the demon, as though he expected him to pull a fast one. "With fresh demon blood in him, I suspect it won't be that simple. This was a set up right from the get go, although I doubt Meg, Jake or any of the other special children knew that. Your original plan was to pitch them all against each other, whittling out the weakest one by one, and letting the victor claim the trophy, whatever that's supposed to be. But with Dean turning Sam into a werewolf, you had to alter that plan slightly, am I right?" he asked of the demon with a raised eyebrow. "Because he was no longer under your control."

Azazel grinned. _"Nicely thought out."_

I had to add my own two cense worth. "So that's what this was all about? To force us into giving Sam demon blood in order to save his life? Boy!" I shook my head, feeling utterly disheartened. "You sure counted on a hell of a lot going your way!"

"_Not really." _Azazel answered, sounding bored, and casually glanced at his wrist watch._ I just watched and learned. The actions of all players were accurately predicted. You just fell into my lap. Now, Sam doesn't have much time left. What's it to be?"_

I held Sam tightly in my arms, kept my eyes on the demon but directed my question at Tobius. "Can _you_ save him?"

Sire's gaze flickered uncertainly between us and Azazel. "I can try. We don't know how deep the sword splinter went."

The demon shifted, growing impatient. _"You don't have a choice. I won't hurt the kid! You both won fair and square, and with some mighty impressive moves I should add."_

"Forget it!" I snapped back. "Sire…"

But when Tobius made a move towards us he faltered with an angry growl, as though something was pulling at him, and at the same time I felt a tugging in my gut. The demon was trying to drag us away from Sam, but seemed to be having a hard time of it.

A glance at Azazel revealed his inner struggle to control us. Someone was fighting him.

_Dean…_Sam's voice came through, though it was faint and breathless with pain._ G-go… I c-can h-hold him off 'til it's o-over… g-go... get away…_

_Sammy? You with me?_

How the hell he was holding on amazed me.

_G-go… get the others to safety…_

_No way! I'm not leaving you here. That bastard will force his blood down your throat._

_S-silver's almost there… I c-can h-hold him off 'til it's too late…_

In other words, once the silver was in his heart...

Self-sacrificing little bastard! As if I would even consider leaving him here to die alone.

_Forget it! Sire's gonna get that shard out of you, so you'd better damned well hang on, you hearing me? Sammy?_

Either he'd lost consciousness completely, or he was ignoring me.

Azazel growled angrily and tried to move towards us, but bumped painfully up against some kind of barrier.

Huh. I guess Sam _was_ ignoring me, then.

"Dean, hold him down," Sire kneeled besides us. "This is going to hurt."

Without any further hesitation, Sire plunged his hands deep into Sam's wound, desperately feeling around, trying to find the silver shard before it was too late.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up into the weary gaze of Bobby singer.

"He's gonna be fine, Dean."

I just nodded. "Yeah. He'd better be."

"In the mean time, you two just worry about getting that silver out," Pastor Jim murmured without turning his head. "We'll keep an eye on the yellow eyed grump over there."

Pastor Jim and Andy were both watching the demon. Azazel was pacing in frustration, hands jammed into his jean pockets and yellow eyes ablaze, no doubt trying to figure out a way pass Sam's protection. Guess that's why he was furious. It was never Jake he had to fear, as it turned out. Sure, Jake grew far more powerful than he should have, but Azazel's real nemesis, it seemed, lay in my arms bleeding out and slowly dying of silver poisoning. Even hovering on the brink of death, Sam was still learning how to wield his powers.

And that's when it hit me. Sam as a human would have been far easier to deal with and manipulate. One of my problems with this whole 'wanting Sam back' issue was why was it such a big deal that he was a werewolf?

I had the answer staring me right in the face. The werewolf status had upped the power behind Sam's abilities, making him that much more dangerous. The trouble a demon faces when training a protégé, and ultimately gaining a student to show off to all the other demons, is trying to make sure said student doesn't turn out to be more powerful than you. It's too easy in the demon world for others to turn and, quite literally, stab you in the back, so it helps to have someone on your side that's skilled but loyal, merely because you hold the more power.

Demon politics. Gotta love it, huh?

"Dean, hold him tighter," Tobius called out.

Sam was squirming weakly in my arms, choking and barely breathing.

I caught the flash of tears in Sire's eyes and nearly lost my cool right there and then.

Tobius clenched his jaw. "I… I can't find it," he raised fearful eyes to meet mine. "There's nothing else for it, son. I'll have to cut open his chest. It's Sam's last chance."

I stared at him in shock, unable to utter a word. Bobby didn't hesitate, just handed over his steel hunting knife.

"What ya waiting for?" Bobby muttered, nervously. "Just get on with it!"

Nodding his thanks, Sire turned back to his gruesome task.

He deftly wielded the knife, cutting Sam's sodden shirt away, then wasted no more time slicing deep into the kid's chest.

Sam moaned in pain, mouth falling open, air wheezing and gurgling in and out with each shallow breath.

"Easy Sammy," I whispered into his ear. His brows scrunched as though he'd heard me. "I'm right here, kiddo. I'll keep you safe. Just hold on now; it'll all be over soon."

Sire swiped a hand over his forehead, smearing it with Sam's blood, and licked his lips.

"Dean, I really wouldn't look if I were you," he whispered. "Just concentrate on your son. He's going to need you."

"What are you gonna do?" I whispered back.

He didn't answer me but, with a hard look of resolve on his face, Sire reached in and _cracked open Sam's rib cage!_

"Holy shit!" I yelped when Sam bucked in my arms and screamed so loud I was tempted to cover my ears. I vaguely noted that Andy, Jim and Bobby had done just that, but I couldn't really pay that much attention, 'cos Tobius was revealing the shiny slither of the silver sword, sitting just alongside Sam's heart.

I gulped in fear. How the hell Sam had gotten away with it was anyone's guess, but the shard hadn't pierced the cardiac muscle. It was right on the edge, _touching_ the swiftly pumping heart, but hadn't made so much as a scratch.

"Jesus Christ!" Bobby exclaimed when Sam's cries faded away to whimpering, and sat down next to us with a hefty thump. "Never seen anything like it!"

Tobius drew back and glanced at me with a soft smile. "He's really quite something."

"Yeah, he sure is," I replied with a returning smile, and pressed a firm kiss to the side of Sammy's head.

Sam was holding the shard at bay. Jake had intended to kill him outright, but Sam had stopped him just shy of completing his task, at the same time letting Jake believe he'd succeeded.

It was a phenomenal triumph. By taking on Jake, I'd created the distraction allowing Sam to TK the sword away from its creator. Jake, judging by the look on his face when he glanced down and saw the blade protruding from his chest, hadn't been too impressed to have his own weapon turned on him.

But, by then, it was all over.

"Ok," Sire breathed out slowly. "I'm going to take this nice and slow. We can't risk it piercing his heart."

We were all holding our breath when Sire reached in and gently touched the silver, preparing to slowly slide it out. The guy didn't hiss or complain once, but I could smell the scent of burning flesh when the silver came into contact with Sire's skin.

The angle was awkward and dangerous from what little I could see. The shard had to be worked upwards and outwards; one false move at this stage…

It was the worst timing in the world. Blood must've backed up in one of Sam's heaving lungs because he suddenly choked violently. Before Tobius could stop it, the movement worked the shard deeper in the wrong direction, and nicked Sam's heart.

The effect was instant. Sam convulsed briefly and fell headlong into a cardiac arrhythmia.

I was shouting something, not sure what, and can't really remember. I think I was on the verge of joining him in the heart attack stakes.

Tobius, figuring it was better late than never, yanked out the shard and tossed it away, but it _was _too late. Sam's heart had stopped altogether, and his body slumped lifeless in my arms.

"Oh shit, Sammy!" I cried out, and the world spun a complete revolution in that one painful moment. "Nononono…"

Tobius didn't say a word, just kept his cool, placed his hands around the deathly still organ, and began open heart massage.

Unfortunately, that meant Azazel was free.

The bastard jumped me, pulling me away and trying to force his bleeding arm into Sam's mouth. With a long, loud, angry growl, Andy sideswiped the demon, buying me just enough time to take up the sword, before he, Bobby and Pastor Jim were once again pinned in place against the rocks.

Sire cast a desperate glance my way. _I can keep his heart pumping for a little while, Dean, but he's running out of time. He needs to breathe._

I was kind of surprised Tobius hadn't been pinned too, but then he had his hands buried deep in Sam's chest. Azazel wanted the kid alive to drink his blood, and sweeping Tobius aside wouldn't have achieved that. Sam would have been lost to us all.

Nodding, and understanding Sire's urgent message, I faced off against the YED.

It wouldn't occur to me until much later that he had no control, that he couldn't pin me like he had the others. Though it sure must've pissed him off, 'cos those yellow eyes turned an almost deep amber colour.

"_You think you can take me? Really? _He bit out, circling one way and then the other, trying to get a good look at Sam. _I really don't think you want to do that, ya see, you don't know what the consequences will be. Have you even considered that?"_

"What?" I smirked and feigned an attack, driving him back a few paces. "Such as ridding the world of scum like you? Keeping children safe from your sick games? Oh yeah, I've considered that. And I say that's just fine by me."

I launched a powerful thrust at his mid section, but he neatly sidestepped it. I tried again, this time just catching him across the arm above his self-made cut. Azazel hissed and jerked, miniature lightning crackling across his skin once more.

"_Now don't be so hasty, boy," _he taunted, the patronizing sonofabitch. He moved slowly round, until his back was up against the dark, looming tree. The Tree of the Dead, as I had so aptly named it. _"You don't know what you're truly dealing with here. And would it be so bad, with little Sammy controlling one of the gates of hell? As duke of his own circle, he'll want for nothing," _he gave a mock friendly shrug._ "and I'll see to it he visits, often."_

"No fucking way," I lunged once more, this time knowing it was my last chance. It was now or never. He didn't move in time, and the blade sank in up to the hilt through his chest, and buried deep in the tree behind him.

The demon gasped and stared at me, a slow, weird smile working its way onto his face. The strange lightning crackled around him, enveloping his entire body.

That smile turned into an outright laugh, haunting and harsh.

"_You might just live to regret that someday," _were his parting words and I had no doubt he was right. He disappeared, leaving in his place a swirling vortex of fire.

It was growing and engulfing the tree.

"Dean!" Pastor Jim yelled out to me. "This was where the murderers were executed! You've just opened a hell door!"

I stared at the blade, the fire crawling up the sword, the vortex pulsing with scalding heat.

_Aw crap!_

"Cut the tree down!" Bobby yelled this time. "Pull out the sword and use it to cut down the tree!"

I almost laughed. Unable to believe a mere silver sword, no matter how hardened and tough, was capable of cutting down any tree, let alone one of this size, I gave in and started swinging anyhow.

I mean, why the hell not, right? I had nothing else to lose.

And, amazingly, it cut through the wood like a hot knife through butter, felling the tree with disturbing ease. The vortex began to shrink, and I felt a stirring of hope that maybe I hadn't fucked up too badly. That was, until I saw the black shadows that fought their way out at the very last second, and swooped away into the night sky. The demon's comment about living to regret this came back to laugh in my face one more time.

The vortex sealed itself shut and faded slowly from view, much like the after effects of a firework.

Had no idea where Azazel was, or even if he'd survived, but right then? There were more pressing matters to attend to. Like my mortally wounded son.

Crashing to my knees beside him and tilting his head back, I waited until Sire gave the nod, pinched off Sam's nose and breathed long and deep into his slack mouth. The metallic taste of Sam's blood nearly made me cry out in pain and anguish.

His lungs – _I could actually see his lungs _– inflated with each puff of air, then Tobius massaged the kid's heart again.

We worked on him until we were shaking with exhaustion, and still we didn't give up. Bobby and the Pastor offered to take over but neither of us could let go.

After what seemed like an ice age, Tobius suddenly stopped and held up one of his hands. A hand that dripped with Sammy's silver laced blood.

"Wait! Just wait!" He stared into Sam's chest cavity, the other hand cupping Sam's heart and watched intently.

I gazed down at the kid, breath caught in my throat, and saw it happen.

The heart twitched, the muscle gleaming and rippling ever so slightly.

_C'mon Sammy, you can do it._

"Swap places," Sire ordered, quickly. "You're too tired to breathe for Sam any longer."

I didn't argue with the guy, just switched roles as asked.

Nervously, I reached in and Tobius leaned over, position my hands just so, then quietly instructed me.

I quite literally held Sam's heart in my hands, and that was one scary assed feeling let me tell you. My fingers slipped on the surface and it was all I could do to hold on and keep up a regular rhythm. Squeezing and hoping like hell this was gonna work, I waited for something, _anything_ that would give me a sign.

I felt it just as Sire was forcing more air into Sam's lungs. The heart jumped, stuttered, and began pumping furiously.

Sam's back arched up, choking and vomiting silver tainted blood. Tobius crooned wordlessly in comfort to our stricken boy, turning Sam's head to the side to allow the blood to leak out of his mouth.

Sam's heart was beating, he was alive… but now came the patch up.

I won't go into that. Needless to say, it was harrowing and exhausting; Sam was unconscious and didn't feel a thing as far as we knew, but later on he sure did.

Hysteria was setting in, that or insanity, 'cos I started laughing. Sire and others just stared at me, until the laughter turned to sobs of relief and I uttered:

"This has to be the weirdest CPR I've ever assisted," and slumped forward, resting my forehead on Sam's, just grateful to feel him breathing again. "God Sammy! You'll be the death of me someday."

Everyone was watching over us, giving me time to get my shit together, but eventually Bobby started making noises about relocating us out of here.

I didn't really pay much attention until Tobius made a surprising request.

"I would be most grateful if you could drop us off at the cabin and take a look at the Impala," Sire was saying. "We really need it fixed…"

That's right. Sam sabotaged all the vehicles to stop us going after him. Something he and I were gonna have a long talk about at some point in the not too distant future.

"…I'll be taking them to a motel to begin with, and when Sam's a little stronger we'll head out into the country. They both need time to recover after this."

"We'll help, make sure Sam's comfortable…" Jim began.

"No." Sire interrupted him, quickly but kindly. "It'll be the three of us only." I could hear the smile in his voice. "We need to heal as a pack. Just give us time to recover."

There was a pause before Bobby's gruff voice carried across to me.

"How long?"

Sire seemed to think about that, and when he spoke it was with regret. "I just don't know…"

I was dozing off, with Sam wrapped in my arms, to the soft mutterings of Sire, Bobby, and Pastor Jim as they prepared for our departure from this Godforsaken place. A soft, warm body gathered us up, but I didn't stir, knowing it was Andy and feeling safe for the first time in ages.

It was still touch and go for Sammy. We couldn't be certain if we'd got all the silver out. I'd made that mistake once before when Sam was shot in the leg; he was sick for days until I realized a fragment of the silver bullet was still lodged inside him somewhere. That time had been a close enough call, but this time it was far more critical with the wound being so near to Sam's heart.

We were in for a long bedside vigil over our youngest pack member.

Last thing I remember, is a familiar 'hump back bridge' feeling in my gut, a sudden dead silence and the roaring and rushing of gale force winds.

I slipped into a deep sleep knowing we were finally going home.

_**Author's notes:**_

_**Not long to go now, just another three chapters after this and we're done, so please do keep up the reviews – it makes it all the more worthwhile for me.**_

_**Cheers for all your reviews so far everyone.**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	22. Chapter 22

**Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 22**

_**Now…**_

"**I don't remember much after I killed Jake," Sam murmurs quietly. Dean's suddenly clenched jaw is the only indication that he's listening. The **_**fatherbrother**_** is pale and silent, hand tightening round the back of Sam's neck.**

"**That's not surprising, young pup," Tobius looks over at his grandson, smile just a little sad and worried. "In spite of pulling the silver fragment out, and bringing you back, it was still touch and go. You were so fragile and sick…" he shakes his head slowly, as though just thinking about it terrifies the crap out of him. "Your wound wouldn't stop bleeding, there was still silver in your system. You were on a precipice, and all it would've taken was a small push to lose you."**

**Dean closes his eyes and breathes slowly out of his mouth. Sam's hand on his shoulder snaps his eyes open again and he turns slightly towards him.**

"**But," Sam whispers, silver eyes staring sightlessly up at his sire and brother. "You were both there to pull me back. I didn't know much else, but I did know you were there with me. I held on to that. Through the pain and darkness, in spite of the fear and uncertainty, I knew you would bring me home."**

"**Sammy…" Dean rests his forehead on Sam's, and nods. "Always, little **_**brotherson**_**. I'll always find you… and bring you home…"**

_**Then…**_

Had no idea how long I was out, but suddenly I was awake and panicking. Sam was in my arms and shaking from head to toe, silver tainted blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. The kid was choking, eyes clenched shut and teeth gritted painfully.

_He's having a seizure! _Sire growled in my head, and that was the first time I realized that he was at the wheel of my baby, and driving at breakneck speed along a narrow road in the middle of nowhere. _Hold him tight, keep him as still as you can…_

He swung the wheel hard over, and the car obeyed his unspoken command, power sliding round a sharp bend in the road. Sire corrected the over-steer and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. With a blood curdling snarl, the Impala lurched forward like a wolf eager for the hunt.

_Where are we going?_ I had tightened my arms around Sammy, his back pressed up close to my chest, and his long legs, sprawled across the rear seat, were twitching in time with the convulsions.

_I was hoping to drive on straight out to the country,_ said Tobius, whiteknuckling the wheel again.

_I thought we were taking a motel room, first, _I replied, vaguely aware that I was talking crap. It didn't matter where we going, only that it would be somewhere warm and safe.

Sire shook his head. _That was the original plan, but I didn't see the point in delaying. Figured one way or another, if Sam makes it then he'll need the peace and quiet, but… _he glanced over his shoulder very briefly, green eyes flaring when they took in the sight of his grandson's pain-wracked face. _I don't think we have any choice now. We must stop and take care of him, check his wound over again, more thoroughly this time. I'm convinced there's still some of Jake's blade left inside him._ He turned back to the road but not before I caught a glimpse of moisture on his face. _There's a motel a few miles up ahead…_

My jaw dropped a little.

If.

He'd said _if_ Sam made it.

_What do you mean by that? _I demanded, sharply, my nostrils flaring with a sudden burst of anger. _What do you mean __**if**__?_

Sire didn't even meet my gaze in the rear view mirror, just sighed heavily.

_I didn't mean anything by it, my son. _But he sounded tired, resigned. _I'm sorry. Slip of the tongue._

Yeah, I guess we're all guilty of that from time to time, but right _then?_ I didn't need to hear it. Though, a small voice inside told me to stop hedging my bets and play the damn game. There _was _every chance Sam might not pull through, after all.

Nothing more was said.

The road was lined with thick conifers, canopies so dense they cut out most of the evening sunlight. From what little we could see of it above the road, the sky, a deep blue with a few stars already putting in an early appearance, was slowly bleeding to orange and red as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. It was beautiful. If only Sam had been awake to appreciate it.

The trees suddenly cut away to reveal our home for the night. Set back from the road, a grim looking Swiss-style motel squatted against the trees, wood smoke puffing gently from a chimney, and a grizzled guy in his eighties was busy beating the dust out of an old rug, right in front of the main reception building.

Sire wound down his window and muttered calmly to the man. I don't know what was said, didn't pay much attention. Sam had stopped convulsing, and lay limp and panting in my arms.

_Easy, kiddo. You're gonna be fine…_

The old guy shuffled over and peered in through my rear window, frowning deeply and scratching at his whiskered chin. I caught his scent and tried my best to keep my churning gut under control. A waft of stale onions rode the evening breeze, ruining the fresh mountain air, and on top of that, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I could have sworn the guy smelled of his own piss.

My ears picked up the sound of dogs howling from inside the house, and their scent was actually quite pleasant and clean compared to that of their owner.

More words were exchanged between Sire and the old man, along with a generous amount of cash, and the guy's frown disappeared. He nodded and hurried inside, returning with a set of keys and a scruffy looking notepad, which turned out to be a visitors' book.

Sam whimpered, and more blood bubbled out of his mouth. His shirt was also saturated, his wound having bled anew. The stench of silver had my lip curling with disgust and bitterness. Jake had died too quickly. Had it been me instead of Sam, his death would have been slow, painful, and merciless. But Sam never could stand to see anyone suffer…

_That's ma boy _I whispered, hoping, somehow, someway, Sam could hear me and use my voice to guide him. _I love you, kiddo. I'm gonna get you through this, so don't go giving up on me, now!_

The car was moving again. Tobius spared me a glance in the mirror.

_I asked for the room furthest away from the main building. Apart from a couple of bikers, we're the only ones checked in._

I just nodded. We needed the privacy of having no immediate neighbours, especially with Sam so badly hurt. Poor kid would likely make a lot of noise over the next few hours.

To my surprise, Sire carried on driving passed all the motel rooms and turned onto a narrow track, heading uphill and deeper into the forest.

_Father?_

_Mr Mourant, the elderly chap running the place, agreed to let out one of the summer cabins further up the mountain._ But one eyebrow was raised and cynicism gleamed dully in his eyes. _Be on your guard. I suspect he'll come snooping round first chance he gets. I told him Sam had been sick and injured during a hiking trip. He seemed to buy it, but the extra tip certainly helped._

Oh yeah. Money talks.

In Mourant's case, it yodelled from the top of the mountain.

If Sire had to buy his silence and cooperation, then it was pretty safe bet the guy couldn't be trusted. The circumstances weren't ideal and I'm sure Tobius would've rather we hit the road again but, sadly, we had little choice. If there was still even a _trace _of silver in Sam's chest, as we both suspected by now, then there was nothing for it but to open him up again. And for that, we needed a warm, safe and comfortable environment for Sam.

The track was a little bumpy but Sire took it slow and steady, the car now inclining at a steep angle as we climbed higher.

_The cabins are around two or three miles apart so no one should hear, _again, that cynical gaze flashed in the rear view mirror, _unless they are specifically listening out for us._

I smiled, grimly. _Soon as we're settled, I'll patrol the perimeter, make sure we're alone._

It wasn't like Mourant's scent would be hard to miss, in any case.

Sire parked up outside a small wooden cabin, then turned in his seat to look at me.

_Human form for now, whilst it's still daylight. And make sure you're seen. _He nodded pointedly.

_No problem. _I gathered Sam up, with one of my arms tucked under his knees, the other round his back, pulling him close, and waited for Tobius to slide out from behind the wheel. Sire strode round the car and opened my door, allowing me to carefully climb out.

With a jangle of keys and a small flourish, Tobius had the cabin unlocked and ready for us.

Sam didn't make a sound, nor did he so much as twitch whilst I carried him into the cabin. I ignored the flowery bedspreads, with their ugly matching lampshades and curtains. There would be time for that later, when Sam was patched up and healing.

Gently laying him down, and brushing damp locks of hair out of his eyes, I leaned over and kissed his scalp.

_I'll get him ready, _Sire whispered and vanished into an adjoining room, presumably the bathroom, judging by the sound of a squeaky tap being twisted, followed by running water.

_I won't be long,_ I replied, though more for Sam's benefit than anything else.

Stepping out into the cool evening, I stared all around our clearing. According to Sire the cabin boasted a resplendent view of the nearby foothills, hence the extra cost.

_Ha!_

At best, if I squinted, rose onto tip toe, and tilted my head to the right, I could just make out _a_ hill. Whether this was one of _the_ famous _foot_hills was anybody's guess, but I wasn't in the mood to complain.

My nostrils picked him out easily enough. Guy wasn't only greedy – and miserly if his lack of hygiene was anything to go by; probably thought soap was a waste of money – but he had to be monumentally stupid. Even a human would have been able to detect his presence by smell alone, but to cap it all, he was attempting to watch the cabin from behind a young pine sapling. It was like seeing an elephant trying to hide behind a lamp post.

Pretending I hadn't seen him was hard going. I was itching to scream out "_Take a look around you! See? Big trees… thick, wide girths with lot's of branches! Lemme guess… you never played hide' n'seek as a kid, right?"_

Movements sharp and purposeful, I strode around the cabin, eyes narrowed, making it more than obvious I was seeking out intruders. Though, just for good measure, given our hygienically and intellectually challenged landlord, I made a show of checking under nearby bushes and even had a good nose around under the cabin itself. It was built up on wooden support struts, leaving plenty of storage space underneath for firewood, tools, etc. Crawling around on hands and knees, I wished like hell I could change. Would have made the job that much easier. Better yet, not having to do this at all would have suited me.

Still, it had to be done. In spite of Mourant's piss poor attempt at surveillance, the space under the cabin needed investigating for hidden trap doors, and other possible ways an intruder could gain entrance to the cabin. After what happened up at Mont. Noir, I wasn't taking any chances. Scent can be masked and, in the case of vamps, for example, we can't smell them at all – we learned that the hard way from our experiences with Gordon Walker (see previous journal entries).

It was pretty dismal down there, in the storage space that time forgot. Dead rats, possums, and poisoned bait were only the start of it. Woodworm and canker riddled the structure, and I knew it would only be a matter of a few years before the whole thing collapsed.

By the time I made it out, brushing dirt and rodent crap from my hands and knees, Mourant was gone, his scent lingering and fading as he headed back down the mountain. For an old guy, he sure could move fast.

Satisfied that the cabin was safe from prying eyes, for now at least, I cast one last sweeping glance around the forest, and headed inside. Much later, after Sam's field surgery was over, I would perform a proper reconnaissance of the area in wolf form.

Tobius was seated on a small wooden stool next to Sam's bed and carefully removing the blood stained bandages. Sam was wearing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, and judging by the way his face was no longer scrunched up, I would have to guess that the oxygen was infused with a powerful pain medication.

Father raised his head when I sat down in a nearby armchair.

_I take it that was our fragrant host paying us a visit?_

Rubbing my eyes, I nodded. _Yep. Discreet is definitely not a word in his vocab. Didn't stay long, though, once he clocked me sniffing round the place._

_Hmm. _Sire raised an eyebrow and went back to checking Sam's wound. _He'll be back. No doubt after more money, the tight arsed old git! Have you seen the state of the bathroom? The Somme battle field had better facilities!_

I snorted loudly at his indignant tone, but otherwise let it pass. No doubt he knew from experience, and likely spent some time scrubbing the bathroom down.

Sam was too pale, his lips dry, chapped, breath wheezing in and out. Bottom line was the kid was in real trouble…

_Ok. It's now or never. _Sire must have sensed my anxiety because he reached over the bed and gently squeezed my arm. _It'll be alright, Dean. But I need you to stay calm, so try to relax, ok?_

_Easier said than done, _I tried to slow my breathing as best I could. Father was right. Last thing he needed was a panicking werewolf in the room whilst trying to save Sammy's life.

Sire's smile was sympathetic. _Just keep in mind what we're trying to do, here._

I nodded.

Tobius began by snipping the blood soaked stitches and pulling the edges of the wound apart. Sam's ribs were still broken, though it seemed as though they had made an attempt to re-knit, which was good news in itself. But we would need to crack them again in order to search for silver fragments.

_Be prepared to hold him down, Dean, _Sire got ready to perform his gruesome task. _I'm not sure how the pain meds will stand up to something like this._

And the answer was, _not at all._

Perhaps it took the edge off, but the fact remained that Sammy screamed loud enough to leave a long jagged crack in one of the window panes. Tobius and I winced, and not because of how much Old Man Mourant would charge us for the pleasure of fixing it.

Sam's back arched violently and it was all I could do just to hold on to him.

_Easy Sammy, I know it hurts, but it'll be over soon. _I muttered. In the end, I climbed onto the bed, slid under him, and wrapped my arms and legs tightly round his body.

Sam bucked weakly against me, great, heart-breaking sobs of despair and pain echoed off the cabin walls. Tears ran down his poor bruised face and I felt my own eyes welling up once again. I lowered my mouth to his ear and whispered, fast and frantic, telling him over and over again how much I loved him and needed him to fight for me.

He still wasn't conscious, which gives you some idea of how much pain he had to be in. When Sam's hand blindly reached out and gripped at his grandfather's shirt, Tobius drew in a sharp breath and slowly let it out, murmuring softly to the stricken kid and gently rubbing his clutching hand. I could tell Sire was fighting off tears of his own, but he tilted and cracked his neck, and narrowed his eyes in determination; he then licked his lips and nodded.

_Here we go._

Sire slipped his hands inside Sam's newly opened ribcage and felt around, carefully.

_Anything? _I asked after five minutes had gone, anxious as hell and doing my best to remain patient.

_It's hard to see, _he replied, his teeth gritted in frustration. _There's so much blood here._

He had to be careful. If there was silver in the wound, then nicking himself on it wasn't going to help matters. The hand that originally pulled the main silver shard from Sam's body had healed, but at the time the skin had sizzled and singed on contact. Sire hadn't mentioned it; not a grunt of pain, not even a swearword or two, just threw the sword fragment to one side and began open cardiac massage on his grandson.

_Wait here… _Sire suddenly got to his feet and moved across the cabin. There was a small kitchenette with a sink, fridge, hot plate and an old fashioned wood burning stove. _I saw something in one of the kitchen drawers…_

I watched him, wondering what he was up to, when he reached into a drawer and pulled out a plastic bag full of disposable drinking straws.

_This'll do the job, _he announced and moved back towards the bed, ripping open the bag as he went. _I'll have to be quick but I may stand a better chance of finding it._

_What are you gonna do? _I asked, voice a little shaky.

He didn't reply, just pulled out a straw and placed it in his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his head and began sucking away at the blood, spitting out mouthfuls of the stuff, keen eyes searching Sam's chest cavity for silver shards.

The silver in Sam's blood had to have hurt his mouth something awful, but he carried on until he struck, well, _silver._

It turned out to be so small you could barely see it with the naked eye, but Tobius, head bent at an awkward angle, sucking on the straw and feeling around with his hands, suddenly caught his little finger on it. A tiny sharp piece of silver was sticking out the side of Sam's left lung.

Ignoring the blood streaming over his hand, Sire grabbed a pair of tweezers from the night stand and tried to pluck out the shard. But it was stuck, stubbornly refusing to budge.

_Dammit! If I pull any harder it'll burst his lung, _he dropped the tweezers and scrubbed a blood stained hand over his face, leaving a wet smear behind. _Ok. At least we know where it is, now. Perhaps I could use the collating agent to dissolve it._

_How? _I stared at him, worriedly. _That could mean leaving his chest open for hours, Sire! We can't do that to him! Supposing he wakes up? Poor kid'll freak!_

Tobius chewed on his bottom lip with a ferocity that surprised me. His eyes darted back and forth as he thought that through. Then he nodded.

_Not necessarily. I can soak some gauze in the agent then pack it around the fragment. It's just small enough it might work. We can close him back up until his symptoms start to improve. Once they do, then we'll know the silver has been safely collated out, and we can operate again._

It was my turn to scrub a hand down my face. It would mean cracking his chest open again. How much more could the poor kid take?

"This sucks!" I suddenly yelled out. "_Big_ fucking time!"

It was the first word either of us had uttered aloud in hours, having kept our conversations private by silent, mutual agreement. You never knew who was listening, and as Tobius had once told me: the walls have ears.

But right then, I needed the grim but therapeutic satisfaction of a damn good shout and, of course, a strong word or two made it all the more worthwhile.

Sire nodded. "I know. But it's the best I can come up with. I really don't want to risk puncturing Sam's lung, not with how sick he is right now."

I closed my eyes for a moment, took a long sniff and reopened them. "Yeah." A quick, hard swallow and I nodded back at him. "Yeah, ok."

Some hours later, Sam still hadn't regained consciousness. In fact, screaming the place down in agony had been his only sign of waking up since we performed CPR on him back at the graveyard.

I changed and slipped out for a night time reconnaissance of the surrounding forest. Tobius offered to do it so I could sit with Sam, but it's part of my role as pack beta and bodyguard. I needed to see for myself, and I knew I wouldn't be gone long. Sometimes, I find going through the motions and sticking to routine is the best way to cope with difficult circumstances. And besides, I never stopped talking to Sam, even whilst on patrol.

_I'm here, Sammy. Just take it easy. _

I sniffed the night air and growled softly. Old Man Mourant was back, and this time it seemed he'd brought some friends. He waddled along the track, a broken shotgun slung over an arm, and two large Blue Tick hounds trailing after him. By the looks of them, the hounds were well fed and cared for, coats gleaming and damp snouts sniffing excitedly.

By this point, they'd picked up on my scent.

_Sire, we have company._

_Mourant, I assume?_

_Yep._

_Hmm. Thought so. I can smell him from here, along with those dogs of his._

_I'm gonna watch him, see what he does. Sam ok?_

_He's fine. Still asleep. His blood is clearing of silver, so I'll be looking to remove the gauze a little later tonight._

_Ok. Stay tuned._

_Will do._

I was crouched under the fronds of a thick pine tree, well hidden from view, when Mourant's hounds began to growl and whimper, skittering back and forth across the track the closer the old man got to me. But when he drew level, the hounds went nuts, snorting and planting their huge paws in the dirt, and refusing to budge. Mourant was furious. He whispered loudly to his hounds, and that was how I found out the reason for his night time visit.

"Get a move on ya damn mutts!" Mourant ranted in a croaky whisper. "And keep ya noise down! Don't want those guys waking up while I'm atryin' ta rob 'em!"

I bristled, hackles erect, and took a pace forward, just enough to put a real panic on the guy's hounds. The Blue Ticks threw back their heads, bawled loud enough to wake the dead, and took off back down the track.

Mourant stared after them, mouth dropped open in angry amazement, but didn't take the well intentioned hint his hounds had offered him.

Instead, muttering "Fine. I'll do it by my damn self, then!" he foolishly resumed his journey towards our cabin.

It was time to show him who was really boss of this mountain!

I trotted out onto the track and stood right in front of him, barring his way.

Honestly, I thought he was gonna have a heart attack right then, the way he stopped sharply, staggered back a few steps and turned white as a sheet.

"Oh my God!" he gulped noisily and snapped the shotgun shut, raising it to his shoulder. Gotta give the guy full marks for quick thinking. Shame it wouldn't have saved him up against something like me.

Fortunately for him, I wasn't into ripping humans apart, even petty thieves like Mourant. Instead, I opted for further scaring the living shit out of him.

Before he could squeeze the trigger, I was on him, knocking him to the ground with my full weight, and using my huge paws to pin the guy down. His terrified face stared up at me and I lowered my muzzle, the wet tip of my snout just brushing his cheek, sniffing cautiously.

_Geez. Guy really needs a bath, _I muttered and felt Sire's laughter in my head.

I stilled and stared down into the frighten man's eyes for the count of ten, watching the way he panted and gulped in fear, then felt a warm dampness creeping through my fur. Guy had wet himself.

Oh yeah. This was _fun_.

Call me malicious, but this was just the kind of fun I needed right then.

I suddenly bared my teeth in a snarl and snapped at him, my jaws a mere millimetre away from his nose. The ammonia of his urine was soon joined by the more pungent smell of his own faeces.

A small twinge of guilt niggled at me for terrorising an elderly man, but I soon quashed it. Guy sets out to rob us, he pays the price. He was just damn lucky I ain't a killer like Tobius.

I allowed a small, partial change to my vocal cords, giving my voice a deep guttural growl.

"_You will never steal from anyone, ever again! I even __**hear**__ about you ripping someone off and I'll be back… and next time, I won't stop at your face. You hearing me, human?"_

He gulped again and nodded furiously. "Y-yyyyy…"

I snarled again, and pushed my snout into his ear, nipping at the lobe with my sharp teeth, _just_ shy of drawing blood. _"I don't recall giving you permission to talk, human!"_

Another gulp, and this time he shook his head so hard I thought his ears might fly off.

Had to wrap it up soon; my throat was beginning to hurt with all the husky talk.

"_From now on, you'll be a nice old guy, whose kind to animals and children. You'll give money to charity on a weekly basis, and most important of all…" _I looked him deep in the eye._ "You'll take a bath!"_

I stepped back, hearing Sire laughing again, before adding:

"_I **will **be watching you." _

With a fierce howl, I bounded away into the trees, leaving Mourant staring after me in abject fear.

I gave it around fifteen minutes to make sure he hadn't followed me, before heading back to the cabin and scratching at the door. Tobius opened it with a small grin and leaned against the frame. I wagged my tail in greeting.

_Feel a little better now? More relaxed?_

_Yeah… _I gave that some thought whilst changing back. _Yeah I do._

_Good. _Sire threw my clothes to me._ Because I've just finished preparing Sam for phase two._

As before, opening Sam's ribcage wasn't fun for any of us, but it was a little easier than before, seeing as Sam's ribs hadn't had time to re-knit. Tobius removed the gauze and flushed the cavity with warm holy water, then ran his fingers over the surface of Sam's left lung.

_Well? _I watched, anxiety making a comeback.

Tobius frowned and swept his hands over the lung yet again.

After a few seconds, he nodded. _Yes. That's cleared it. But don't get your hopes up too high, Dean. He's still very sick, and it could take him months to recover from this._

I just sighed, heavily. _Yeah, I know._

There was still the lingering damage caused by the poisoning to worry about. Sam's newly restored healing abilities might not be fast enough to save him.

The next morning dawned, promising a bright sunny day, but brought with it the sound of soft, plodding footsteps and, eventually, a tentative knock on the door.

We were busy cleaning and re-dressing Sam's wound, and glanced at each other in confusion.

I looked up at the same time as Sire, but I was first to the door and swinging it open.

Mourant was cowering on the doorstep, a wicker basket clutched tight to his chest. Some wonderful smells were emerging from that basket and it was all I could do not to lick my lips.

Not only that, but he was dressed in clean clothes and I could smell cheap detergent and some kind of shower gel.

Ok, so it hadn't been a bath, but it was as good as it was gonna get.

"What dya want?" I asked, gruffly.

He held out the basket.

"I-I brought you some food," his gaze flickered to the bed, where Sam slept on, oblivious to our visitor. "Thought you guys might be hungry. And the youngster..." he nodded to Sam. "I got him some homemade soup, in case his gut's a little sensitive. There's blueberry muffins, bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes, pancakes, coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice." Mourant grinned, proudly. "I did that myself, took out the pulp and everything."

I eyed him with suspicion. _There's no way in hell the guy knows I was his assailant last night._

_Perhaps he's turned over a new leaf,_ Sire remarked, sounding amused.

I took the offered basket. "How much is this gonna cost us?"

Mourant had the decency to hang his head in shame. "Nothin'," he muttered. "Just an old guy tryin' to help out."

"Well, thanks," I replied, feeling more than a little awkward. "This is great."

When he lifted his head again, I couldn't resist the opportunity.

"_I'm sure we'll enjoy this."_

Mourant's eyes widened. He whimpered and stepped back.

I just grinned wolfishly, and the guy took off at high speed back down the track, presumably to the safety of his motel.

Sire smirked. _Was that strictly necessary?_

_Yes. _My answer was sharp and uncompromising, as I kicked the door shut with my foot.

_**Author's notes:**_

_**So Sam's trying times didn't end at Mont. Noir. But will they continue?**_

_**And **_**was**_** Dean a little harsh with the old guy?**_

_**Nah! The old bastard deserved it!**_

_**Cheers everyone.**_

_**Kind regards,**_

_**ST xxx**_


	23. Chapter 23

**Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising.**

**Chapter 23**

_**Now…**_

**Sam is snoozing away, head resting in the crook of Dean's elbow. Dean is staring down at him, eyes pinched and haunted by bad memories. One hand is absentmindedly stroking the kid's hair, the other hand is curled round Sam's back, holding him close.**

"**Do you remember what you asked me?" Tobius says quietly, watching his son and grandson with concern. "Just before we left the Mourant place?"**

**Dean huffs gently and nods. "Yeah."**

"**And you must remember what I told you," his Sire raises an eyebrow.**

**Another nod.**

**Tobius breathes out silently, leans back on the grass and stares up at the night sky. "I was right, of course."**

**This time Dean snorts with a certain amount of genuine humour.**

"**No need to be all smug about it!"**

"**Ah! But that is the nature of La Salle," Tobius shrugs, a glimmer of a smile appearing. "We French are notoriously smug!"**

"**And the English are known for their arrogance," Dean counters, smartly, referring to his Sire's dual nationality.**

**Tobius merely narrows his eyes good naturedly. "And this coming from an American?" he snorts with laughter. "I believe that's a strong case of 'Pot calling Kettle', don't you think?"**

**Dean tips his head in a **_**touché**_** gesture, and the two werewolves fall into a comfortable silence.**

**Sam snuffles softly. His eyes slowly open for a moment, revealing that blank, silver stare.**

**Dean smiles. "Go back to sleep, kiddo," he whispers, tenderly. "All is safe and sound."**

**The kid tilts his head to the side, listening intently to his **_**fatherbrother**_**, then nods and his eyes slip closed again. Settling further into Dean's arms, the young wolf is soon snoring away.**

"**So," Dean glances at the camera. "After another warning to behave himself, we left Old Man Mourant behind us. Sam's recovery was going slow… **_**too**_** slow… I guess I was just too impatient…"**

_**Then…**_

"Come on, get some sleep, my son," Tobius reached over and patted my shoulder. "I'll keep watch over the pup."

And yeah, the guy had a point. I was exhausted and needed some downtime.

"Uh…" I ran a shaky hand through my hair and nearly broke under the sudden desolate feel of helplessness. "Sire…"

It came out as a broken sob.

"Easy now," Sire gripped both my shoulders and peered down into my face. "Not the time, Dean," he whispered, kindly. "It's not the time to fall apart. Maybe later."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak right then.

We sat in silence for a while, Sire still maintaining the light contact, to which I was immensely grateful. He was offering his strength and support, and I was only too eager to draw upon it.

After a few minutes, I found my voice, and asked the question that had been burning a hole in my brain since Jake.

"Do ya… uh… think Sam might have stood a better chance than this? If he'd drank Azazel's blood after all, I mean?"

Sire tensed up. At first I thought he was angry, but when he began speaking in a calm, quiet voice, I realized he was just coming to terms with his own answer.

"Honestly?" His eyes locked with mine. "Yes. Without a doubt."

I nearly fell back with shock. I mean, a part of me, a _tiny_ part, kind of expected it. But to hear it out loud, and said with absolute confidence… it was devastating.

"But…" I stammered, unable to bear it. "You…"

Tobius shook his head and shushed me.

"Think about it, child," he said softly. "Had Sam taken the demon blood, he'd have been too strong for Jake and the silver wouldn't have hurt him. So, I'm afraid the answer is _yes._ He wouldn't be in so much pain right now, nor hovering so close to death…"

"It's my fault," I interrupt in a blind panic, and gasping for air. "I told him not to, I _told _him… Oh God… Sire, I damn near sent him to his death!"

"NO!" Tobius swung me up off Sam's bed by my lapels with such force my head was spinning. Next thing I knew, I was slammed against the cabin wall, and Sire's hard gaze was boring into mine.

"It was NOT your fault! Never!" Sire gave me a fierce shake. "Don't you get it? Don't you _remember_ what I told you at the time? Think, Dean!"

I blinked. With a supreme effort on my part, I tracked backwards through my memories to that awful time in the graveyard, and beyond the mind numbing grief and terror I felt seeing Jake's sword slide into Sam like a hot knife through butter.

Back, back much further…

It was when Tobius was doing the whole 'the butler did it in the library with the poker' routine, like a regular modern day Poirot. He was explaining his theory behind the demon blood…

Apprehension dawned like a new day.

Sire watched me closely, and nodded.

"Indeed," he whispered, softly. "Azazel neither confirmed nor denied it, but I firmly believe that by drinking demon blood, Sam would not only have signed away his life and soul to Azazel, but he would have lost his non-lunar status and reverted to human." Tobius tilted his head and asked me, curiously. "So tell me, Dean, would Sam have been able to live with that?"

It took me a long time to answer, and not because I didn't know. Just the opposite, in fact.

"No. You're right. Sam would rather die."

Tobius released his hold on my jacket lapels and smoothed them down, fixing me with a warm, approving smile. "Precisely."

He rested his forehead against mine and we breathed in each other's scent, taking comfort in the small gesture.

"Now, as I was saying, pup," Sire pulled back, still smiling down at me. "It's high time you got some sleep. I'll wake you when it's time for dinner." He frowned, all mock sternness. "Don't make me drug you!"

"O-ok," I muttered and swiped a hand across my face, acutely embarrassed when it came away covered in salt water. I don't cry, dammit!

I settled back on Sam's bed, this time in wolf form, leaving a trail of clothes across the wooden floor boards. Curling up and tucking my snout in Sam's neck, I sighed wearily and closed my eyes.

It was nearly eight hours later when Sire woke me up for food. Even whilst chowing down on the raw lamb hearts Old Man Mourant had especially brought up to us, I barely took my eyes off Sam.

Sire found that he could get pretty much anything he wanted from the old guy, and he fully planned to take advantage of that whilst we were here.

"Sammy? Can you hear me?" I tapped his cheek, gently, trying not to jostle his healing body. The clear plastic of the oxygen mask was fogging up with each slow, even movement of Sam's chest. Never thought I'd be happy to sit and just watch him breathe. But that's just what I did without complaint for, like, _hours._

I'd made a nest in the back seat of the Impala out of soft blankets and a large rabbit skin rug - a left over from Tobius' famous spiced rabbit and apple pie. Sire's pretty handy with a needle and thread. Nothing ever goes to waste with that guy, and I had to admit the rabbit fur sure was nice and soft to the touch. Packing it round my boy and carefully stuffing a pillow between him and the seat back, I gazed down at him. He looked comfortable enough, and I would be sitting in back with him to keep a check on his vitals. Sire had assured me Sam was ok to travel by now, and that we'd be making regular motel stops for over-night stays, but still… I couldn't stop the torrent of anxiety thrumming through me. Each adrenaline laden pound of my heart was bringing me closer to the edge of insanity, and I knew I couldn't keep going like this.

Sam's eyes seemed glued shut, with no sign of opening. Kid was well and truly _out._

Sire was packing up the car, checking weapons and making a list of any stuff we needed to stock up on.

We'd stayed on in the cabin for another three days, at Mourant's invitation. _Gratis_ by the way. The crusty old motel owner continued to bring us freshly baked bread, soup, steaks, and anything else Sire felt necessary. Though I did raise my eyebrow at the request for a rubber duck.

_What?_ Sire had stared at me with wide-eyed innocence. _I just wanted to see if he would._

I had shaken my head, grinning. _Definitely spending too much time around us._

Sure enough, the next basket of food had contained a small yellow bath toy, brand new, and still wrapped in its cellophane packaging.

Much to Sire's amusement, it gave out a _squeak_ when he applied pressure.

Later that night, the sound of splashing water drifted out of the bathroom, along with the occasional _squeak_ of Sire's new toy.

I knew what he was doing and, strangely enough, as a morale boosting exercise it worked rather well, going by the small smile that edged its way onto my face.

But now it was time to move on.

Tobius was anxious to get us out to the country. It wouldn't be long before Mourant came sniffing round again, we were certain. Sure, the guy seemed to have turned over a new leaf, but for how long?

Just to be certain, I decided to change and set out to pay the old bastard one final visit.

_Sire? I'll be back in a little while, ok? Sammy's still asleep…_

Tobius appeared on the cabin's wooden veranda, after one last check inside for anything we might've forgotten, and nodded.

_I'll keep an eye on him. Oh and Dean?_

_Uhuh?_

_Try to leave the old bloke with at least __**one **__fully functioning limb, yes? It wouldn't do to attract too much attention._ This was said with a broad grin. Sire knew I had no intention of hurting anyone.

Literally scaring the shit out of the guy once again?

Well, that was certainly on the agenda.

I slunk through the trees, sniffing furiously and picking up the scent of the Blue Tick hounds the closer I got to the motel. The dogs had been quiet each time either Tobius or I had patrolled down the mountain over the last few days, and even now I never heard so much as a whimper.

Night was on its way out, and the sun would soon be rising, so I took advantage of the pre-dawn gloom to make my way passed the motel block, and onto the main building itself. With a quick glance around, I silently climbed the fire escape to Mourant's bedroom window.

Inside, tucked up against the corner of the room, was a double bed covered by an ugly looking comforter -some flowery, swirly patterned thing that could have been used for unspeakable acts at a 1960s rock festival.

There was a lump in the centre of the bed, curled in on itself like a dormouse.

Reaching up with a paw, I scratched a single claw down the glass pane. The noise was enough to set even _my_ teeth on edge.

It was all I could do not to snigger when the lump in the bed leapt up screaming, and fell on the floor with a thud. The guy stared up at the window, his face frozen in terror when he saw me, and began whimpering in fear.

A quick change of the vocal cords, and I delivered my message, certain the guy could hear me through the thin pane of glass.

"_Just a reminder. I am watching you."_

Mourant nodded. "I-I underst-stand. I pr-promise…"

I studied him for another long moment with narrowed eyes. Then without another word, I snarled, making the guy jump, and took off back into the woods, satisfied the motel owner was indeed on the level.

We didn't wait for daybreak. Soon as I was dressed and sitting in back with Sam's blanket-wrapped legs draped over mine, Tobius was easing away from the cabin, the car rocking gently over the uneven ground.

Sam was doped up to the ears with pain meds and muscle relaxants. Kind of like a drug-induced coma, I'm unhappy to say, but it was necessary to make the journey as comfortable as possible for the poor kid. His future was still uncertain. There was no way to tell if he'd survive, or what the outlook would be if he did.

Yeah, I know. Outlook? That sure turned out to be a poor choice of word, huh?

We travelled with the radio on low volume, whilst we talked quietly, hoping that somehow Sam could hear our voices through the drug-haze, and take some kind of comfort knowing we were right there with him.

We stopped on the roadside once or twice to stretch our legs and take a breath of air. Sam slept on, oblivious to the world around him. Sire changed the IV bag as soon as it emptied, we grabbed a bite to eat, and hit the road again soon after.

After a few more miles, I began to feel a little strange. Something was niggling at me. Took me a while to figure it out, but I got there in the end.

"Hey Sire? You realize this is the first time in ages we've been on the road without someone chasing after us one way or another?"

Tobius appeared to think about that, then I caught his small grin in the side mirror.

"Now that you mention it…" he winked. "I could get use to this."

The next motel we stopped at was a little cleaner and a little livelier. A bar resided just across the parking lot, and though I thought about it for all of three seconds, I turned away. Wasn't in the mood for beer and partying, least ways not without Sam.

Speaking of…

I wrapped the kid in my arms, blankets and all, and lifted him from the rear seat. Sire had already unlocked the motel room door and stood to the side, eyes scanning the parking lot out of habit.

The only thing of note was a young bar maid, clutching a box of beer bottles, hurrying into the alley, and remerging moments later empty handed. Without so much as a glance in our direction, she tottered on ridiculously high heels back into the bar, slamming the heavy door behind her.

I didn't really take too much note at the time, but Sire seemed on edge about something, staring hard at the bar door, eyes pinched. It wasn't until later that it began to make sense.

I guess it was the loud music coming from the bar that put us both on edge that night, 'cos neither of us slept too well. Course, it didn't help when the sound of breaking glass had the both of us up off the beds, heads cocked and listening to the shouts of a drunken brawl taking place outside the bar.

Running footsteps and loud swearing grew closer, until they passed right by our door.

Sire moved to one side of the window, shifted the curtain slightly, and took a peek.

_Sire?_

_Wait here. It's probably nothing, but I want to check it out anyway._

It could have been a measure of our paranoia, but I grabbed my H&K from the duffle sitting by the bed, and flipped the safety off. It was loaded with silver, just in case.

Sire nodded approvingly, shed his clothes, changed and slipped out the door.

_Be right back._

Beta instinct encouraged me to shadow our pack alpha, for his own safety, but I balked at the idea of leaving Sam alone and vulnerable. So I waited it out, standing silently by the window, gun at the ready and covering the motel room door.

It was forty five minutes later before Sire returned, nosing the door open and padding quietly inside.

_Well?_

He shook from head to tail and snorted. _Nothing but some rowdy trouble makers. Still, I'd rather not step down just yet. I'll keep watch for the rest of the night._

I eyed him, suspiciously. _What aren't you telling me?_

The big wolf huffed, sat back on his haunches and gave his right ear a good hard scratch. _Just feeling a touch spooked. Those men… there was something familiar about one of them, but I can't put my finger on it._

Sitting back on the edge of Sam's bed, I made a _gimme_ gesture. _Familiar? How? Are we talking recently?_

Tobius stopped scratching and turned his head my way. _Remember when you and Sam were being hunted by Walker's patrols?_

How could I forget? Sammy got shot that night and we only just managed to get away by the skin of our fangs. There was a battle in our wake, human against human, vampire against vampire. Sire - whom we had believed to be dead at the time - Pastor Jim and Bobby Singer, with the help Lenore of the Florida vamp nest, won hands down and were responsible for the clean up, but still one or two of the enemy managed to get away…

I sat up straight. _You really think it's one of them?_

Sire changed and grabbed up his clothes. _Possibly. Can't say for certain._

He was being cagey again.

_Sire! _I growled, impatiently. _How come you didn't recognize his scent?_

Tobius sighed, fastened his button-down and raised his head. _Ok. Cards on the table… there __**was**__ no scent._

Shit! The one that got away was one of Gordon's vamps, rather than just another hunter pissed off exclusively by the Winchester boys.

_There's no scent at all coming from that bar._

Double shit!

I just stared at him, aghast.

So, there we were, hidden away in a motel room, one of us dangerously sick, and surrounded by one BIG fucking vamp nest. And not just _any_ big fucking vamp nest, but possibly headed up by one of the bastards that were after us all those months ago.

It was obvious why we hadn't been made, yet. We still ritually dusted ourselves down with the potent smelling herb that cloaked our scent. It was pretty much second nature to us.

See, vamps can smell us perfectly well – provided we're not using that herb - but no matter how hard we try, we can't smell them. Different scent wavelengths or something.

It troubled me greatly that I hadn't even noticed there was no smell around the bar. It should have been conspicuous by its absence, but I'd failed to pick up on that.

_Dammit!_

_Shush, young pup._ Tobius knelt down in front of me and squeezed the back of my neck. _You've had a lot on your mind. Your sole priority has been Sam, and you've handled it admirably. Leave the beta work to me for now, yes?_

In other words, _he'd_ noticed the lack of scent earlier, possibly before the bar brawl found its way outside.

_Maybe we should go. _I said, dejectedly.

Tobius shook his head firmly. _No. That would make it too obvious something's up. They'll be on us before we could blink. We're perfectly safe here, provided we keep our heads down and stay quiet until daylight._

That made sense, but what I didn't understand…

_Why did you stop here in the first place? Why didn't we just keep on going?_

Sire smiled, sadly. _We all needed a break, Sam especially. And for the record, I had no idea the bar was a vamp nest until we'd already checked in and were settling down for the evening. It was the bar maid who tipped me off. She opened the bar door, and all I could smell was the usual spilled beer, whisky and tobacco. __**Nothing**__ else. Not even a drop of sweat._

I guess running into one of Gordon's vamp thugs was just coincidence, then. We wouldn't have known he was here if Sire hadn't checked it out. And where there was one, the other would surely be.

_You think they're still on the grid?_

Tobius considered that. _Hard to tell. If they're still in Azazel's employ then it begs the question: why weren't they sent out after us before now?_

_Maybe they were told to back off whilst the competition against Jake and the others was underway. _I shrugged, uncertain and worried as hell about the implications. _Maybe, their contract ended the moment I iced the bastard._

_That's a possibility. _Sire looked thoughtful. _No matter. I'll take care of it in the morning, make sure they can never come after us._

I grinned tentatively, instantly liking the sound of that.

Early the next morning we rolled out of the parking lot, Sam still drugged unconscious, me in the back seat with him, and Sire looking rather smug at the wheel.

Behind us, the bar lay in ruins, doors charred by fire and hanging off their hinges. Windows were black gaping holes from when the glass had blown out, and the smoking, molten plastic of old beer crates littered the area.

When the cops arrived they would find several blackened remains with their throats ripped out. Sire had gone in quick the moment the sun rose. A mere five minutes later he'd emerged, fire and smoke in his wake, blood dripping from his muzzle, and an extremely satisfied look on his huge furry face.

He'd bounded over, leapt behind the wheel, performed an instant change and we sped off, Tobius steering with one hand and scrabbling at his clothing with the other.

_You get 'im?_

_Of course! _He'd winked at me in the side mirror again, and we left it at that.

I didn't need to ask for details. My imagination could fill in the gaps pretty well, with all I knew about Sire. It was enough to know that at least one of Walker's vamps was out of the picture once and for all.

After that? Life was pretty uneventful, and you guys have seen much of it during my journal intros, so there's no need for me to elaborate here.

Suffice to say that Sam woke up blind, eyes silvered out, body weak and sick. We'd had to stop at that point, leave the road, and devote all our time to keeping Sam's spirits up.

There were moments when I wondered about calling Jim or Bobby, just to let them know the score, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. This wasn't the time or place for human intervention, and those guys understood that. We knew they would contact us only under extreme emergency, but in the mean time, they'd kindly left us alone. As Tobius had once said, after the battle at the graveyard, this was something we had to do as a pack, though we'd had no idea what was in store for us all at that point.

Pain, blindness, despair, depression; all the struggles Sam underwent, just to make it through each and every day without cracking up. Sometimes it felt like we were back on that mountain pass, battling against everything Mother Nature threw at us, and emerging on the other side shaken, exhausted and, sometimes, devastated.

But so long as you ride out the bad stuff, remain patient and faithful, you quickly find that the good times come right along, hot on the heels of the bad. Sometimes it takes a little courage to pull your head out of the sand in order to notice it, but it does happen. We took comfort in that, and when Sam was finally on the mend, though still unable to see, we set out on the last part of the journey.

A few hundred miles of travelling, and we were there. We were safe in our special place.

_**Now…**_

**Dean stops talking suddenly, and Tobius springs to his feet.**

**The digital audience can't hear a thing, but the two senior wolves clearly can. They are listening and staring intently at the tree line, as though waiting for something to happen.**

**And it soon does.**

**A large shape lumbers out of the forest, with a great crashing of breaking branches and the thumping of huge paws. The camp fire flames flicker and dance abruptly, disturbed by the rush of air as the shape draws closer and is revealed to be a big black bear with soft, gleaming fur. Its eyes are narrowed with purpose, but soon widen in fear when it realizes its trajectory is on a collision course with the fire pit. With a loud bellow of anguish it tries to stop, but skids, big beefy front quarters windmilling clumsily. It tries to somersault over the top, but flops without grace right on top the tallest flames**_**.**_

**The bear leaps up and begins hopping around, frantically scrabbling at its' butt until the flames are out, leaving a small patch of singed fur.**

**When the drama reaches its conclusion, the large bear, with a disgruntled growl, suddenly shrinks down, fur disappearing, and snout morphing into a human nose. It leaves the digital watcher without a doubt that this is indeed a werebear.**

"**Andy? What you doing here?" Dean asks, just as Sam stirs and mutters sleepily.**

**Andy is a tiny guy, at least in comparison to his werebear form. He shakes his head and grabs a spare blanket to cover his naked form.**

"**I have **_**gotta**_** stop crashing into things! Seriously! S'getting' embarrassing…" he trails off when he sees Sam. "Dude! You ok? Your eyes…"**

**Sam blinks and looks over in Andy's direction. "Yeah, tell me about it," he murmurs, sadly. "That's what silver does to me."**

**Andy flushes deep red and splutters his apologies until Sam waves him off.**

"**Forget it, man. You weren't to know."**

**Tobius sits down beside the werebear and places a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing all the way out here, child?" he asked, kindly.**

**Andy suddenly looks tired, worn, and deflated now the excitement is over and the adrenaline rush at an end. Like he's been on a long journey and is only now allowing himself to rest.**

"**I got a message for you," he suddenly glances over at Dean. "For all of you. Actually, it's originally from Bobby and Pastor Jim, but it was Lucas who sent me to find you."**

"**That makes sense," Sam muses, chewing on his bottom lip. "Cell phones wouldn't get a signal out here."**

**"Of the Home pack?" Dean frowns and glances at Tobius. "How'd Bobby and Jim know about them?"**

**"Andy's family met up with them before we went after Sam to Mont. Noir," Tobius repies, still carefully eyeing the young werebear as though he's about to collapse. "Andy joined them soon after we got back. Now," he tilts his head slightly. "You say you had a message for us?"**

**Andy just shrugs, tiredly. "Whatever. Bobby's been trying to get hold of you guys for weeks now." He softens his voice a little. "Pastor Jim was attacked."**

"**What?"**

**The werewolves, including Sam, sit up straight, exclaiming loudly.**

"**Is he ok? Is he gonna be alright?"**

**Andy nods, eager to put their minds at rest. "He's fine. Broken leg, bruised shoulder, but he'll live. He's been in hospital the last month."**

"**Who did this?" Tobius growls, fists clenched by his sides.**

"**Uh, they didn't say," Andy glances nervously around at the angry wolves. "But Lucas suggested for your own safety that you head to the home pack. I wasn't told much more than that. Said it was for your ears only."**

**After another quick glance at his friends, Andy says in a voice way too timid for a fierce bear, as though expecting trouble:**

"**Uh… in fact... it wasn't a suggestion as such, more an instruction," he swallows hard before adding "I'm here to bring you in... as****your acting bodyguard**_**.**_**"**

**The werewolves are silent for a long while. **

**Andy begins to fidget as the two older wolves stare at him in disbelief.**

**Whatever the young werebear is expecting, it clearly isn't for the pack alpha and beta to suddenly begin laughing raucously… right in his face.**

**_Author's Notes:_**

**_Nono! Andy's serious (struggles to keep a straight face)._**

**_Bless 'im._**

**_So hands up those who are curious to know what the news is?_**

**_How many of you have a theory on it? By all means please let me know - and you'll find out next chapter if you were right._**

**_Many thanks for all your reviews. Sorry for not replying this time - this has happened a lot whilst this book was underway, but time restraints were the culprit. In order to release two chapters a week it was sometimes necessary to neglect you all. Though the book was mostly written well ahead of time, there were still re-writes, plot changes and of course the wonderful beta work by Phx to take into account. _**

**_But here we all are, on the 'eve of the finish._**

**_One more chapter and this book is complete._**

**_Kind regards,_**

**_ST xxx_**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:**

**Hunter Rising**

**Chapter 24**

**Combined with Epilogue.**

_**Welcome to the final chapter, boys and girls!**_

_**This was written with certain people in mind who didn't want to see Sam regain his sight just yet, and because it was a great excuse to see Dean taking care of his blind brotherson.**_

_**Many, many thanks and big hugs go out to Phx for her beta work, along with devon99 for her faithful encouragement.**_

_**Now…**_

**Tobius is the first to stop laughing, and glares at Andy.**

**Dean's laughter soon dies away.**

"**You're **_**serious!**_**"**

**The young werebear gulps noisily. He's clearly very uncomfortable with all this. And who wouldn't be? No one with a single ounce of common sense or sanity would attempt to pull three large werewolves into protective custody against their will.**

"**Uhuh," says Andy, and fidgets nervously. "See, when we got back from Mont. Noir, Bobby sent me to join my family. Mom, Dad and little sis were living with the werewolf home pack for their protection…"**

"**Well, yes. We've already established that," Tobius interrupts a little impatiently. "**_**I **_**told them to go there, for safety's sake."**

**Andy nods. "Yeah, and we appreciate that," he replies, softly, eyes bright with gratitude. "It's been great living in the forests. There are no humans to disturb us, and the pack… well, they're pretty cool."**

**Tobius pinches the bridge of his nose. "**_**Yes**_**, that's wonderful, but **_**why**_** is Lucas asking… no, **_**demanding**_** that we join him? For **_**our**_** protection no less?"**

**Andy shrugs. "Like I said, he didn't share that information with me. I'm not even sure how Bobby told Lucas about Pastor Jim."**

"**Probably worked a communication spell," Sam pipes up, blank silver eyes seeking out his friend.**

"**In that case," Dean muses, stretching out his legs and toeing another log into the fire. "Why didn't he contact us directly? Would've saved a whole lot of trouble."**

"**Um," Tobius looks shifty and glances at Dean. "Remember when you once asked me if this land was charmed in some way?"**

**Dean's eyes narrow. "Yeaaah?" He draws the word out, voice laden with suspicion.**

"**Well," his Sire replies with a wry grin. "It _is..._ sort of." He sweeps a hand round, indicating the meadow, river and forest. "The place is riddled with ley lines and sometimes, when there's an over abundance, it can interfere with sorcery."**

**Sam frowns. "Aren't there usually ancient buildings involved with ley lines?"**

"**Burial mounds," his grandfather responds and gives Sam a gentle pat on the arm. "There are several scattered around here. The native American tribes were highly protective of this land, which is why they turned it over to me, lock, stock and barrel, way back before the Civil War."**

**There's a stunned silence, broken by a spluttering noise. Dean appears to be struggling for air.**

"**Y-you…" his head swivels around, eyes wide with awe. "You **_**own**_** the place? **_**All**_** of it?"**

"**The tribal chiefs knew I was a non-lunar, and were aware of my immortality, after I hunted down a lunar dependent for them. They'd lost several elders and children to that devil." Tobius shrugs and gazes at his son, eyes twinkling with amusement. "They saw the advantage of giving the land an immortal protector."**

"**Wow!" Sam whispers and leans forward a little. "That's quite an honour. Where are the tribes now?"**

"**Yes, it is. Naturally, I was very proud to accept," Tobius heaves a great sigh, filled with sadness. "As for the tribes? They're all long dead, though a few descendants still live in the cities. You see, although I was able to keep the tribes mostly safe from the rest of the world, a few problems did slip through the safety net. I'm afraid, even with werewolf strength and instincts, I was no match for a particularly virulent strain of tuberculosis." He clicks his tongue. "They were wiped out within a few weeks. But I kept my promise, continued to protect their home, and I will eventually settle here to keep up my vigil."**

"**That's incredible," Sam murmurs, hand blinding reaching out for Dean, who immediately grabs it up and rubs his fingers gently over Sam's knuckles.**

**Tobius smiles when he sees the gesture, but doesn't comment.**

**Andy clears his throat. Loudly. "So what now? Do we head out tonight? Or tomorrow?"**

**The pack alpha sighs again. "I suppose we'd better go and find out what the old fart wants with us," he casts Andy another glance. "Are you absolutely certain he never mentioned why? Not even by accident?"**

"**Nope, not a word," Andy replies with a head shake.**

"**Hmm. Didn't think so," says Tobius. "Wouldn't expect Lucas to make a slip up like that."**

**Dean glances at Sam with a good deal of concern. "Sammy? It's your call, dude. Do you feel up to a long journey just yet?"**

**Sam swallows hard and nods tentatively. "Might need a little help, though. I still can't see real good in wolf form, and someone's gonna have to carry all our stuff."**

"**No problem. You can carry the first aid supplies," Dean's grin is wide. "I can be your seeing eye dog."**

**That elicits a snort of laughter from the youngest werewolf.**

"**Well," Tobius yawns and stretches. "We're not going anywhere tonight. You, young man," he prods Andy with a finger. "Need to rest."**

**Dean picks up the camera and grins into the lens. "Guess we're gonna have to say good bye for now. See you in a few days."**

**The picture winks out and goes black.**

**It's **_**almost**_** a blackout, the picture a little fuzzy, until it becomes apparent that the lens is pointing at the night sky. In the next instant Dean is peering into the camera.**

**He does not look happy.**

**Just the opposite. He's pale, shaking and there's a glint of mad anger in his glowing green eyes.**

**He doesn't mess about. There's no jokes in this introduction. He just cuts to the chase…**

_**Then…**_

We left the next morning after a full night's rest. It didn't matter whether we travelled by day or night so we weren't stressed about it. Sam carried the first aid supplies on his back, Sire carried the weapons, and Andy once again resumed his self-appointed tail-end Charlie position.

As for me?

Tobius had fashioned a harness and leash out of rope and so there I was, proudly leading my blind and helpless little _brotherson _through the forest. It was made easier with thought projection, with me able to point out where to step up, down or over, to avoid dips in the ground and fallen trees when the going got rough.

I looked up at Sam every few minutes, making sure he wasn't getting tired. The kid seemed fine for the first hour or so, but when he started stumbling clumsily along, I knew it was time for a break.

Tobius gently pushed Sam down onto a log and ordered him to sit and relax, whilst the rest of us scurried around, putting together a meal fit for three hungry wolves and a bear. Andy squealed like a delighted teenage girl when he found a patch of wild strawberries, which came as a relief. Wasn't sure what the hell we were gonna feed him, but then he seemed quite competent at foraging for his own food. Kid's a fast learner, I guess. Had to be, to have journeyed all the way out here to find us in the first place. It helped that we'd also brought along a few pieces of cooked fish, and though Andy preferred his fish raw and fresh from the river, he didn't complain once. Tobius went out on the prowl and returned half an hour later with a plump rabbit and a brace of wild duck.

The scent of hot duck fat was soon drifting through the trees, and had me licking my chops with appreciation. Sire cooked the duck until the skin was crispy, and even added some wild garlic and berries he'd found nearby.

I changed to human form for the meal so I could subtly help Sam with his food. Not that he couldn't help himself, but I sensed his apprehension over our journey. Kid needed a little reassurance without it being too obvious.

"Here ya go, Sam," I passed over a large dock leaf filled with the juicy, tender duck and berry compote (yeah, that's right! _Compote_. I'd added a new word to my vocabulary). "It's a little hot, still."

Sam nodded, shades reflecting the midday sun. His fingers confidently took the leaf from my grasp, felt his way around the edges, and tucked in to his food with relish. That made me feel a little better, but I could still sense the tension.

Nerves, I decided.

Sam was _nervous _about something.

I caught Sire's eye and jerked my chin in Sam's direction. He nodded and smiled.

"So, Sam," Tobius sat down after serving up a portion of the rabbit for himself. "Are you looking forward to meeting up with Cornelius again?"

Sam went very still and hung his head. "I-I guess," he whispered, sadly.

I put down my food and wrapped an arm round his shoulders, taking comfort in the feel of strong, well developed muscles. My beautiful son may have been blind, but otherwise he was in fine shape.

"Kiddo, what's wrong?" I gave him a gentle squeeze until he raised his head again.

"I'm just… uh… not sure how the home pack will react when they see me like… like _this_," Sam touched his shades, pointedly.

Sire pursed his mouth and slowly breathed out through his nostrils, eyes concerned and sympathetic. "Child, they'll be fine with you. Yes, they'll be worried and sad, but if you think that they'll reject you…"

Sam stiffened but said nothing. We had our answer.

"Aw, Sam…" I was at a loss for words. Sam's super smart, but there are times when his insecurities over-shadow his keen intellect and come up with what can only be described as an answer beyond ludicrous.

Andy had also stopped eating when the rest of us did, but hadn't said anything up until now. His brown eyes misted up as he gazed at his friend.

_I don't think so, Sam,_ the werebear whispered. _I mean, that's not the impression they gave me when they talked about you guys. They really love you. They won't let a little thing like being blind as a bat change their feelings towards you._

Both Sire and I winced. Tact? What's that mean when it's at home? Clearly Andy didn't know either!

To our astonishment, Sam spluttered and snorted loudly, and I realized he was actually laughing.

"Andy, don't ever enter the diplomatic corps." Tobius muttered, deadpan. "Your talents would be wasted."

Andy just shrugged, innocently. _What did I say?_

Lunch wasn't exactly rushed. We never rush our meals. It's far healthier to savour the food and enjoy it. So it was a little over two hours later before we were packed up and moving on again, Sire up front and Andy bringing up the rear. I continued to keep a strict watch on Sam. This was his first long trek since Jake nearly killed him, and I didn't want Sam to over do it.

We walked in a comfortable silence, which meant that I had plenty of time to reflect on a few things. I had questions that needed answers, but hadn't had the time or energy to sit down and talk about it with Father. What with Sam being so sick, and running into miserly motel owners, I guess my plate had been full up 'til now.

I thought back to the cemetery, Sam facing off against Jake, the fight, the sword… _everything_. I ran through it all in slo-mo, each image like a still picture, checking it over, looking to see what I'd done wrong, if there had been a way of doing it all differently to avoid Sammy being hurt so damn badly.

It was during this post mortem that one of those questions popped up in bright neon letters, demanding an answer and refusing to leave me alone.

_Dean?_ Sam called, softly. _You ok? You've been real quiet the last few miles._

Nothing much gets by him, blind or not.

_Yeah. Just been thinking, is all._

_Careful. You'll give yourself a migraine._

_Can it, bitch!_

Sam chuckled. _Seriously. What's wrong?_

_Nothin' Sammy._

_Liar._

My turn to chuckle. I pulled against the makeshift leash and bumped against his thigh. _Seriously, nothing's wrong._

_Ok. _Sam sounded worried, and maybe even a little hurt._ If you're sure._

_Aw, c'mon Sammy. Nothing to worry about, I promise. Soon as I've got my head all figured out, I'll talk._

That seemed to mollify the kid for now, and he reached down, hand seeking my fur. A gentle scratch behind my ears had me grumbling in approval, and I leaned in close to him the rest of that afternoon.

But Sire looked back over his shoulder at me, curious and concerned. I shook out my mane and stared pointedly at him. He nodded, understanding the silent message: we would talk later, once Sam and Andy were fast asleep.

Around six o'clock Sam tripped over a tree root and sprawled out on the forest floor, groaning in discomfort.

_Sam! You ok?_

_Y-yeah… uh, sorry._

_Don't sweat it, kiddo._

Tobius had turned back the very second he heard Sam's sharp cry, whilst Andy bumped into the back of me. Sire knelt down and grasped Sam's arm, carefully pulling him to his feet.

_You're tired, pup, _his grandfather gazed at him, and kindly stroked back a stray lock of hair from Sam's face. _Let's take a break. We've plenty of food left over from lunch. We'll eat, perhaps grab a few hours sleep, and walk a little further later on._

_I guess so. _Sam nodded gratefully, shoulders slumped in weary defeat when Sire removed the back pack from him.

The fact he wasn't even attempting to argue, told us just how tired he really was.

_Sorry, Sam. We should have stopped earlier _I whined softly, and pushed my nose into his hand.

_Nah. S'ok. _Sam, feeling his way, carefully dropped to the ground and leaned his back up against a tree. Tobius smiled and set about fixing a cold dinner.

Andy, without saying a word, gently pulled Sam away from the tree, lay down behind him, and allowed Sam to use him as a giant bear-pillow. I snuggled up against my son, licked his chin, and just lay there, contentedly puffing through my snout.

Dinner was another two hour affair, after which a somewhat fresher Sam changed and romped around a little, stretching out his legs, paws scrabbling at the forest floor, and squinting through his silver pupils.

_Feeling better there, champ? _I flicked him in the face with my tail.

Sam lunged into attack posture, body low, ass all stuck up in the air, his own tail wagging from side to side.

_Oh yeah!_

He pounced without warning, rolling me over and over, until I lay, belly up, and gazing at him, fondly.

_Not so tired now, huh?_

_I've woken up a little._

_So I see…_

He snorted and jumped back, waiting for me to seek revenge.

I didn't disappoint. If Sam was fit to play then I was only too happy to oblige the kid.

I howled long and loud, and jumped right in.

Sire seemed content to just watch us with a fond smile, whereas Andy was already snoozing peacefully away.

We dodged, weaved and ran through the trees, the setting sun warm on our backs. Only once or twice did I have to stop Sam from running headlong into a tree. His eyesight in wolf form hadn't improved, that much I knew, but his coordination and confidence were growing all the time.

Eventually, we both gave it up for the evening and headed back to our tiny camp. Sire was leaning back against a fallen log, waiting for us. His shrewd eyes were narrowed slightly, watching Sam as he slumped down next to Andy and huffed.

_Ready for some rest, pup?_

Sam snuffled and let his eyes drift shut. _I am now. What time do you want to get moving again?_

Sire raised an eyebrow. _Let's get a good four hours sleep, then we'll see how we all feel._

_Ok. _The kid yawned widely, but was asleep before his mouth was even fully closed.

"Now," Sire murmured quietly. "What did you want to ask me?"

I blinked, sat up, and quickly changed. "What makes you think I want to ask anything specifically?"

"Are you going to do that all night?" Sire inquired, sounding amused.

"Do what?" I asked, in genuine bafflement.

"Answer a question with a question."

"Oh," I shrugged and pulled at a blade of grass. "No."

"Good. Then by all means, ask away…"

I took a breath, then just came out with it.

"Back at Mont. Noir, when Sam and Jake were fighting," I glanced at Tobius. "We were all pinned to the rocks. But when Sammy got stabbed, I managed to break free… I just can't figure out how. I mean, even when Azazel confronted us and tried to force his blood on Sam, I wasn't pinned."

"Hmm," Sire reached up and picked a piece of food out from his lower teeth. "Yes, I've been wondering about that, too." He smiled. "I have a theory, if you're interested?"

"Of course," I rolled my eyes at his teasing. "And no stalling!"

Father pressed a hand to his chest and batted his eyelashes. "_Would_ I?"

"Yes!" I growled. "You _would!_"

He laughed softly. "Fair enough."

Sire settled more comfortably against his tree. "I think that your anger, fear and love for Sam broke you free of Jake's influence. When you saw that weapon enter Sam's body, it flipped something inside of you, something potent and dangerous. I suppose you could say that, like Sam, you have psychic switches of your own. Sam is the trigger."

"Huh," I answered, not knowing what else to say, but it certainly made sense.

"What also helped, I suspect, is the emotional upheaval your body has been undergoing on the run up to your prime," he waved his hands in a vague gesture. "The best analogy I can think of is to compare it to a human child going through puberty. Hormones are all over the place, hair growing in strange places, in the case of girls the breasts are developing, in the case of boys it's the testes that are the focus, wet dreams…"

I was growing steadily more disgusted, but that last one was just too much.

"Alrightalrightalright!" I held up a hand. "That's enough. I went through it not so long ago, I don't need a reminder!"

Tobius, bastard extraordinaire, snorted with laughter. "You see my point, then?"

"YES!"

"Right, well there you are," but he paused, and watched me closely, face turning serious. "But there's something else to consider. Your blood bond with Sam is unique and special. Given that there are no other werewolves quite like you two, it's a little hard to know for sure, but I strongly believe that must have been a major contributing factor."

That gave me pause for thought. It hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Or," something else had occurred to me. "Maybe it was Sam all along."

Sire was already shaking his head. "If that were the case then we would all have gotten free."

"What about Azazel?" I asked, frowning as I thought it through. "Could our bond, combined with my approaching prime, have been strong enough to break his hold over me?"

"I'm afraid that's an even murkier issue," Sire explained and smiled apologetically. "From the way he was goading you, backing towards the tree, I'd have to say no. He _wanted_ you free… to open the hell door."

Yeah. I could see where he was coming from. That did raise a few questions. But what Tobius said next sent a ripple of worry through me.

"Something escaped in that moment," Sire watched me closely yet again. "I saw it. Between opening the door, and cutting down the tree. Those black shades? They were souls. And I have a nasty suspicion that's what Lucas wants to talk to us about."

"You think they have something to do with the attack on Pastor Jim," I stared back at him.

Tobius' mouth twisted in the affirmative, but he wouldn't discuss it any further.

"We'll wait to speak with Lucas before we make any more assumptions, yes? Let's get some sleep, pup. Long journey ahead of us."

Sire let us all sleep for a total of eight hours, and we all woke up refreshed and ready to chow down on the left over food. Andy sniffed out a natural spring gushing with cool, sweet tasting pure water, and we drank eagerly, quenching our thirst.

_There's several of these along the way, _Andy informed us.

_How much further, Andy? _Sam asked, nibbling and licking at his fur, then hunkered down to engage in a session of furiously cleaning his paws.

_Another two day trek. And Lucas is bringing the home pack to meet us._

That was pretty nice of him; moving the entire pack halfway across the wilderness just for us? But then I guess he'd heard about Sam's injuries.

So we were faced with another two days of the same.

Not much to report here. We followed a routine of hiking for three or four hours, catching whatever food happened to be hopping, bounding, or leaping by, and resting up.

It was just after five in the morning a few days later, when we caught the scent of non-lunars. They were watching us, making sure we were alone and not being followed. Not especially strange behaviour, but I could tell Tobius was curious about it.

_They're extremely wary, for some reason._

Tobius insisted on sitting tight and letting them come to us when they were ready. It didn't take long. Within half an hour of arriving, a large wolf padded slowly into our little camp, carrying a large Canada goose in its mouth, probably a welcome gift.

I grinned when I recognized him. _Have you been sleeping in a grow bag? Jeez, kid! You've shot up like a weed!_

Cornelius spat out the goose, and sneezed. Goose feathers clung comically to his snout, and he sneezed again.

Another loud sneeze later, and he shook his head and scowled.

I heard Tobius' soft rumble of laughter, and the young wolf bowed respectfully to our pack alpha.

Sire returned the gesture, graciously.

Cornelius finally settled his gaze on Sam, who seemed to sense the scrutiny because he ducked his head. He was still in human form and I wondered if he was going to change.

But Sam just stood there without saying a word or moving. The home pack beta trotted up to the kid and nudged him gently with his muzzle, as if to say _Please talk to me?_

Sam reached down with a shaky hand and ran it through the beta's fur.

_Hi. Uh… you're looking well._

Cornelius tilted his head to the side and studied Sam. With a soft woof, he licked Sam's hand and changed into human form.

"Sam, my dear brother," concerned blue eyes searched Sam's face. "I heard what happened. Are you alright?"

Sam took off the shades and revealed his silver eyes. Cornelius, to his credit, didn't flinch or even gasp. The only display of shock was a slight frown.

"No," Sam whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek. "I'm not alright. I'm blind, Cornelius. And we don't know if it's permanent."

With barely a pause, Cornelius enfolded Sam in a hug, and I heard his whispers of encouragement, just as two more wolves moved into the camp. From their scent, I gathered it was Lucas and Victoria. The looks on their faces and the sad eyes told me they'd heard Sam's declaration.

_We're so sorry, Sam, _Lucas murmured, and glanced at his mate.

Victoria nodded and trotted over to the youngsters. Rearing up on hind legs, she pushed her snout into Sam's face and licked away his tears. A quick change and Victoria's long black hair was falling gracefully down to her waist.

_C'mon, sweetheart, let's get back to the others. I've a nice venison roast with apples and wild potatoes that'll be ready in a little while. Lucas has brewed some mead, so come and tell us all about your adventures. We've all been worried about you, my love, but you're safe here, no one's going to hurt you…_ she held both his hands and, backing slowly away, led him towards the smell of roasting meat and the sound of happy voices. Her gentle ministrations and calming words had the desired effect, and not just on Sam. We were all beginning to relax and we followed on, except for Lucas and Sire.

I sensed they had their own reunion in the making, but I caught a few words before we left them to it.

_So… you finally made it, eh? Long time no see, Tobius, you old fool!_

Tobius snorted. _The only fool here is __**you**__, you old git! Last time we saw each other, you were busy munching on the foot of a German Gestapo officer!_

_I seem to recall it was you who got us caught by Gerry in the first place, _Lucas countered and snorted right back_ you unbearable wolf!_

_You're the one who tripped over his own feet, you clumsy, insufferable oaf…_

And so it went on, an exchange of insults and good natured bickering. I shook my head and trotted alongside human Cornelius. Andy lumbered along contentedly, his huge furry bear ass wobbling with each step. I guess he was looking forward to seeing his own family again.

Campfires blazed away and werewolves lounged around chatting and laughing, but two bears appeared at a high speed gallop, and a small cub scampered at their side. Andy was swept into a series of hugs, motherly kisses and fatherly back rubbing. The little bear cub pawed at her big brother, whimpering playfully until he bent his head and licked at her little snout. With a soft snort, Andy picked her up and settled her wriggling form in his arms.

He gazed down at his baby sister with every sign of love.

_It's good to be back, little one._

In the meantime, Sam was being coaxed closer to the largest fire, a thick blanket wrapped round his shoulders, and a wooden mug pushed gently into his hands. He took a small sip and the tension eased the rest of its way out of his body.

_Mead, huh Sam? Your favourite._

He actually smiled.

_Yeah. _Sam took another sip and sighed, blinking slowly. Already he was a little tipsy. _S'great stuff._

_Just don't drink too much before dinner, Sam. Don't want you falling asleep in the gravy!_

He perked up a little, but his words were already slurred. _S'mon mention fooood? M'hungry… _

I laughed and curled up around him, supporting his tired, slumping body. Cornelius sat down cross-legged next to us, whilst Victoria filled two more wooden mugs with the delicious mead. She set one in front of me, and the other in front of Cornelius.

The other beta grinned from ear to ear. "This is the life, huh? Let the women do all the work, waiting on us hand and foot… Just as it's supposed to be!"

_Dude, you are so gonna pay for that! _I chuckled when his blue eyes twinkled at me.

Victoria, the very epitome of grace, didn't dignify that with an answer, just raised an amused eyebrow and accidentally on purpose splashed a little mead in his face as she passed us by.

Cornelius spluttered, but decided to be philosophical about it and gleefully licked the liquid off his nose. "I guess I deserved that."

I glanced around _No Matthew and Logan tonight?_

"They're around," he replied. "But we tried to keep them away tonight, of all nights..." his blue eyes gleamed, knowingly.

I was tempted to ask what he knew, but... he's home pack, a beta just like me, but of a much larger pack with a slightly different kind of governance. If our rules seem stringent to you, then these guys might take you to some extremes.

_Deeaannnn…_

A hand groped clumsily at my ears and began stroking them.

_Heya Sammy. How ya feeling?_

_Gooood! Wan'foood… hungry…_

_Coming right up, sweetheart, _a smiling Victoria reappeared, carrying several large platters of venison, apples and potatoes, all soaked in a rich fruit gravy and giving off a scent that made me drool all over Sam's arm. Not that he noticed. Sam was too busy sniffing the air, and blindly reaching out for his food in a way that made my heart break just a little. It put me in mind of his desperate hunger just after I turned him, many years ago.

Easing away from him, I changed and picked up the nearest platter. Guiding his hand carefully to the platter, I let him hold it and instructed him on where the meat was, and which were the potatoes and the apples.

_Thanks Dean._

_No problem, buddy._

The Irish werewolf, who had struck up the song and dance on our first home pack visit, sung a gentle ballad in a duet with Victoria whilst we ate. I smiled when the guy tipped his head to me and gave a small salute.

_Will we have ya up and dancing again this night?_

Laughing, I replied _Not likely, Patrick. Maybe another time, huh?_

I indicated Sam's sleepy form, chewing away at his food.

Patrick pointed at me with a wry grin. _I'll be holding you to that, so I will!_

It hadn't escaped my notice that Sire and Lucas had yet to put in an appearance, but I let it go – they hadn't seen each other in so long, I figured they were entitled to some time alone to catch up. So we just sat by the fire, eating, drinking and listening to folk ballads. From time to time I checked that Sam was eating ok, and as soon as his platter was empty I got up and refilled it without asking.

The venison was superb, unsurprisingly, and went well with the mead. The mead itself seemed a little stronger than I remembered, with a richer, deeper honeyed taste.

As another hour crawled by I began to wonder about seeking out Tobius, making sure he got something to eat before all the food was gone.

Decision made, I touched Sam's wrist. _I'm just gonna take Sire some food, ok Sam? I won't be long, I promise._

_Sure. _Sam blinked lazily, and I figured it wouldn't be long before he was out for the count.

_Want anymore food before I go?_

_Nuhuh. M'full._

_Atta boy._

A minute or so later, armed with two fresh platters of the aromatic venison, I made my way out of the camp, and followed my nose...

Looking back? I really, really, _fucking _wished I hadn't. It was no way to find out something like that. In fact, I'm not entirely sure I wanted to know at all.

_Ever._

They were seated at the edge of the forest, side by side in human form, and looking out across the mountains. The low murmur of voices ensured that they were so deep in conversation that they hadn't heard my movements. The fact that they hadn't even caught my scent, or that of the food, told me this was a serious conversation and not for the feint of heart. But, ya know, I figured I could handle that, being pack beta and all…

Their voices grew louder, heated, angry, though it sounded as though they weren't angry with each other as such.

"He's certain?" Tobius said, sharply.

"Oh yes, he was certain alright," replied Lucas, his smooth voice quiet and worried.

"Dammit! I knew there would be repercussions, but not this. _Anything _but this! The boys will be devastated."

_That_ sure sealed the deal for me. I was definitely down with the whole eaves dropping shenanigans, no matter it went completely against protocol.

"I know, and I'm sorry Tobius," Lucas offered, quietly. "I wish there was something I could do..."

"They've both been through so much, the last thing they need is that _bastard_ showing up in their lives again," Tobius continued as though Lucas hadn't spoken.

My breathing became short and sharp, and I felt like I wasn't getting enough air. This didn't sound good. Who were they talking about? Had Azazel shown up again? Had I not killed him back at Mont. Noir after all? Or perhaps Jake had survived against all odds.

I wasn't prepared. Not at all. _Not_ for what Tobius said next…

"I take it John Winchester went after Pastor Jim with the intention of finding Sam and Dean?"

_What?_

Both non lunar alphas were on their feet, swinging round to face me, and the two platters I'd brought for them hit the ground. Venison, potatoes and apples littered the forest floor, unnoticed.

_Dean… _Sire reached for me, but I backed away, almost tripping over. Tobius was faster, however, grabbing my arm and righting me. _Calm down, pup. Just breathe nice and slow._

I wasn't panicking, but my anger sure was going for a burn.

"How can he be back?" I virtually screamed it out. "He's dead! I watched you _kill _him!"

"I know, my son, I know," Sire muttered soothingly. But whatever else he had to say, it appeared to be causing him a lot of pain, because he opened and shut his mouth several times, shaking his head.

"Your Sire told me about the hell door," Lucas spoke up at that point, his Scottish brogue filling in where Tobius had left off. "Apparently, John told Pastor Jim that you were the one who let him out that night, and he sought desperately for a body to possess. You were all protected in some form or other, whether by the humans carrying protection tattoos, or you boys by virtue of being weres. He scarpered that night, went out to find a host. But he's back, alright. I'm afraid your former human father is now a demon."

I bit my bottom lip bloody, only vaguely registering that new piece of information. I hadn't known that weres couldn't be possessed. Regardless, I wasn't comforted.

"And now he's after us, right?" I stared at Sire. "That's what you were going to say."

Tobius closed his eyes in despair when Lucas murmured a quiet "Yes."

I was shaking from head to toe, eyes wide with fear and anger. "So what do we do now?" I forced out from between gritted teeth.

"You'll stay with us for the time being," Lucas answered before Sire could open his mouth. "We're safe out here…"

"No! That's naïve thinking and you know it!" Sire finally barked out. "I won't put you and your family in danger like that!"

"You don't have a choice, Tobius," Lucas stated in reasonable tone of voice. "Your youngest is still recovering from a life threatening injury, not to mention he's still blind. You're too vulnerable at the moment. _All_ of you."

He was right about that part, but neither Tobius nor I liked it.

"We'll keep you safe, on the move, and we won't stay in one place longer than a night or two," Lucas insisted, a little more forcefully by now, though it was unnecessary. I could sense Tobius was about to give in. And _that, _was unacceptable.

It was my duty as beta to point out the pitfalls, and the plain fact was, I knew John better than anyone.

"No…" I backed away again, my voice rising in volume with each breath. "I'm not gonna just sit by and let that bastard possess and torture everyone he comes across, until he finds us! And he _will!_ John Winchester was an asshole, but he was also one of the best hunters and trackers around. If he wants us, then he's coming, and there's nothing we can do to stop him!"

I pointed a shaky finger at Lucas, lowering my voice. "And now you say he's a demon? He's been in hell all this time? Let me tell you something… I _knew_ that man! He won't stop at us. If he finds you protecting us, he'll tear your pack apart! Every single member of your family will die!"

The three of us just stood there, ears ringing in the aftermath of my rant.

Tobius shook his head and made a small clicking noise with his tongue.

"I think you have your answer, my old friend," he said to Lucas with quiet dignity.

And this is why he's not only a good guy, but an even better pack alpha, 'cos he listens to his beta, even if said beta was on the verge of hysteria.

It was a subdued walk back to the camp, no one saying a word. I could tell that Lucas wanted to protest again, God love 'im, but he's a smart wolf. The home pack alpha knew we'd made up our minds and nothing was gonna shift us. Lucas also knew that we were right, and no way could he, in all good conscience, put his pack at risk, even for us.

Now, all we had to do was break the news to Sammy…

I didn't know if I was capable of that just yet. I was still shaking, still angry, and scared as hell for my son's life once again.

A hand on my shoulder made me look up from my fervent examination of the ground. Tobius smiled sadly. "I can tell him, if you prefer."

But he already knew the answer to that.

"No. It should be me. I didn't stop John hurting him all those years ago, but he needs to know that _this _time I will. One way or another."

Sire said nothing but held something out to me. It was my digital video camera.

Huh. Not a bad idea…

_**Now…**_

**Dean's still looking pale and angry, but he's no longer shaking, having taken therapy by ranting at his digital watcher.**

"**We seem to have gone from one uncertain future to another. When I heard that **_**name**_**, it felt like the world had come tumbling down around me. Just when we're getting back into the groove, feeling safe and secure, someone comes along and pulls the rug right out from under us," he shakes his head and sighs. "That guy hurt him so bad... cruelly abused and neglected him. I can still see that poor kid from way back then, standing outside the motel room the day we rescued him from John Winchester, skinny as hell, bruised up and almost starving to death, barely healed broken bones…" he gulps, and takes a long hard breath "how the hell do I tell Sammy that he's back?"**

**There's a gasp from out of shot, and the camera whirls around with Dean's sudden movements.**

**Sam is clinging to a tree, barely holding himself up, silver eyes gleaming with tears.**

"**Sammy…" Dean calls out, voice anguished.**

"**Nonono…" Sam whispers, shaking his head, his whole body quivering. **

**But the digital watcher is in for a surprise. **

**Dean steps forward to help him, but the kid pulls himself up and away, out of arms reach. He's blinking rapidly, and standing on his own two feet.**

**Sam's clearly in shock, yes, but it's not fear he's feeling…**

"**I'm gonna kill him," he says slowly, his voice deep and cold, body changing as the wolf takes its cue.**

**It's sheer, unadulterated **_**fury**_**.**

_**The End of Book 2.**_

_**Author's notes:**_

_**Hope you all enjoyed that, and that the ending didn't creep up on you too much. As I might have told some of you, I **_**have**_** decided on a third book. Can't really leave our boys hanging like that, with a demonic John Winchester after them, eh? **_

_**Who knows what will happen, but not all is as it seems…**_

_**Gonna be taking a break over the summer to concentrate on some other story ideas that are a little more… canon.**_

_**Plus, I still have puppy Nelson, who needs a lot of attention before he rips apart my tomato plants!**_

_**Again!**_

_**Cheers darlings. I've really enjoyed all your wonderful support.**_

_**Big Dean hugs and Sammy kisses to you all.**_

_**Love ST xxx**_


End file.
